The Cycle of Souls
by Black Firelight
Summary: Death as a human has many afterlife theories and options. Even for the residents of Soul Society there are theories to ponder. Yet what of Hollows? What is it that they have to look forward to after death?
1. Prologue: Familiarity

**Foreword:** Hello there! This is the revised version of the original prologue. From this point on, in between updating i shall be running an overhaul on all the current chapters. After some contructive criticism, it's been noted that i need to flush out my story with more detail and emotional depth, so please tell me how i'm doing and give me some feed back on what i could do to make it better!

**Disclaimer:** Tite Kubo owns Bleach and all that pertains to it…not me.

**The Cycle of Souls**

_**Prologue: Familiarity**_

I wanted to sigh aloud. The familiarity of my dreamscape was becoming quite a nuisance. It was a dream that had plagued my mind for as long as I could possibly recall. The vast expanse of white sand; a desert shadowed by an eternally dark sky with only the moon for light. It bore the feeling of an empty prison. In the rare places where vegetation appeared there were sprouts of crystal tree-like formations that jutted randomly from the ground in the dark desert of …_I don't know_…_not now, not ever._I always struggled to tack a name onto my surroundings, to pin them down.

Despite the oddness of the place, there wasn't really much to see. This time I really did sigh as always, I found myself wondering about the true name of this place. It was strange, I could hear its name echoing in my head, whispered by my own traitorous mouth, but never could I understand it; a large annoyance on my part. This place; whatever or wherever it was had always given me an odd feeling and that was no different now. In comparison to the peaceful and harmless scenery, I'd always known; _felt_ that this was a place of death. Normally, one might consider information like this useful and under normal circumstances I would as well; the problem was that I didn't know where the knowledge came from. There was no reason for me to know such a thing. _So why did I?_

This nameless place was always quiet, save for the sound of a random wind blowing over the pallid sands. Truth be told, I rather liked it that way, and would much prefer it to _stay_ like that. But it never did. The sounds that rang through the air were always abrupt and unsettling. The senseless roars of mindless beasts. They echoed through my mind achingly loud and resonated in a place that not even _I_ could fathom. The most disturbing thing however, was that somewhere deep down I knew them for what they were; the cries of the hungry, the tired, the lonely, and the desperate. As always, my mind would reply: _The cries of the weak._ I felt the corner of my mouth twitch into a frown. _More misplaced knowledge…but where did it all come from?_

Patiently I waited for the dream to continue. I'd had the dream so many times; it often felt more like I was moving along on a scheduled conveyer belt than lying in a bed at the mercy of my subconscious. And so without warning the white desert began to fade, only to be replaced by a forest of tall, spindly trees that held their branches away from themselves as if they were calling out for me; _come closer, come closer. Let me embrace you._ I didn't need to look to know it was there, I knew it was, just like it was every night. Though after countless nights I was prepared for the sight that awaited me, yet nothing had ever haunted me more. Its body was odd; illogical really. After all _what creature did you know that could function with an enormous hole punched through its torso?_ And yet as I stared at its white plated body and monstrously wide mouth, I knew that this creature…whatever it was…

_...a nameless creature in a nameless place, how ironic…_

It defied logic. And soon enough I began to wonder as I always did in my dreams; did such a thing exist here? Could logic exist in such a seemingly illogical place? After all, logic told me that there were no places of eternal night; logic told me that there were no such things as crystal trees; and the oddest thing so far was that logic told me I should fear this creature with its pale body and hollowed torso, but instinct…?

_Instinct says that it should fear_me_._

_Why?_ I pondered as I studied its empty stomach…_that hole_…it was important, I knew, but I didn't. I grew agitated, as I always did, it was nothing new. _Perhaps I should just sit back and ignore it all…_

And then came the last destination in my dream. I began to zoom along the forest, slipping further and further from it's grasp as the trees thinned only to reveal…..

_Lo and behold…more desert._

There was thankfully, a respite for my eyes, which had long grown weary of the all too familiar scenery; however, it was a structure that I was also rather familiar with. Smooth white stone walls that rose up from the desert sands like a sultan's castle, its curved roof buffering the sandy winds. When I moved, it was never seemed to be of my own accord, but rather my body carrying me along a sort of memorized path. It led me through the buildings winding, maze-like corridors and soon I found myself in front of a pair of doors that I really didn't want to open, but seeing as I've never been able to not open the doors, I didn't bother to delay the inevitable. The hallway's light poured into the darkened room, casting pale illumination onto the faces of those seated at the long table in the room's centre. There were ten people seated and as I glanced at their faces, despite the fact that I neither recognized them nor recalled their names, I knew that I knew them. As always I would notice the empty seat on the left side of the table, a seat I knew to be mine. Slowly, my eyes drifted up toward the man who sat at the table's head. A man who's sharp brown eyes watched me calmly, an amused smirk gracing his lips as if his favorite form of entertainment had suddenly arrived in his midst. I detested that smirk that I knew far too well. I'd never be able to forget the man; Aizen. Even if the memory of his name were to leave me, I'd never be able to forget that smirk. That smirk that seemed to call out to me. That world that seemed to say '_Welcome back, -_

It's always there that I would rise from my slumber, drenched in a cold sweat, despite the muggy warmth of my room. My name is Kanzenkiba Tomoe; I am a seventeen year old, high school senior. I am not necessarily well liked, but I am well known and tolerated by those around me. I study when necessary and generally bring home good grades; I am the captain of the judo club..._perhaps that is why I am tolerated._ I don't have many friends_...no wait— I don't have any, just associates._ So I'd like to think I'm fairly normal without many oddities to plague my existence. To be honest, the most unusual thing about me is that while my name is Tomoe and my mother calls me Tomo, under the guise of sleep…a different name surfaces. The name that claws from the depths of my subconscious…_Ulquiorra Cifer_.

~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~

**Afterword:** Alright, I look forward to knowing what you think.

-Thanks in advance for reviewing! (lol),

BlackFirelight


	2. Chapter 1 Relatively Normal

**A/N:** This fic came about for two reasons, 1. It sucks greatly that he died the very moment he began to understand Orimhime and emotions…..sucks…badly. 2. Really some of the Arrancar were just absolutely amazing and so I'm very sad to see them go, so I wanted to give them a "new life" so to say. Yay! This is the beta'd version, done by the very helpful _**ForeverFalling.**_

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Bleach or any of its characters, no that great honor belongs to Tite Kubo.

**The Cycle of Souls**

**_Relatively Normal_**

He hated this. Every night the same dream would plague his mind. It was as if it wanted to tell him something. He let out a harsh sigh as he ran his hand through his bedraggled hair. Really, he was tired of it. It'd been five years; if it wanted to tell him something it should just come out and say it already. But he knew that wasn't going to happen, after all, his subconscious was to blame for his maddening dreams. A part of him knew something that the rest of him didn't and it wouldn't rest until he found out. However at this point he could really do without. It was depriving him of a good night's rest. Not, that he wasn't used to it by now; he just wished his mind would spare him when there were exams to be taken, but that was rather unlikely.

Sighing one last time, he glanced out his frosted window, where the dim light of the sunrise shown through. It would seem the time to ponder his predicament was gone as daybreak waits for no one. Getting out of bed he made his way to the bathroom where his belongings were placed in an orderly fashion, so that he could clean himself up. Twenty minutes later he was dressing himself in the grey slacks, white button-up, and tan sweater that his school uniform was composed of. Taking a few moments to correct his appearance in the mirror, one could observe his features. He wasn't particularly tall or short for that matter, he stood at a balanced height of five feet, six inches. His skin was still slightly tan from the summer months despite it being late in the fall season. He could see evidence of his mother's decision to make him work at the beach, claiming she was tired of his pale complexion. He snorted at the memory and continued to tweak his hair into place, there wasn't anything particular about his hair color, dark obsidian as it was. The most unusual thing about it was the spikes that he'd gelled into it, although his bangs had been combed to the side. He'd never put much thought into his hair before, but when he'd started high school his mother had been adamant about styling it claiming that he needed a change. He rolled his light brown eyes at the memory of his mother lecturing him. So doing his hair had become a habit, one that he neither hated nor liked. It was just something he did for the sake of doing it.

He wasn't one for jewelry, but when he'd seen the ring he knew he had to have it. Sterling silver, the simplicity of the band off setting the intricate engraving of a bat carved into the centre. Independent as he was he'd refused to let his mother buy the ring for him and worked until he'd gotten the money to purchase it. It encircled the ring finger of his left hand; he wasn't sure why he'd wanted it so much. It was just that it reminded him of something that he still couldn't recall. Not one to waste time, he snatched up his large black headphones and made his way downstairs.

She was already sitting at the table when he stepped into the family room, eyes glued to the television. The woman wasn't his real mother, she'd found him when he was twelve- years-old, unconscious in the middle of the street. He'd had no memory of who he was or how he got there. Years later when he thought back on it, he decided that the reason that she took him in was because she was lonely. It made sense when you considered the spelling of his name. He sat down at the table and snapping his chopsticks apart, he began to eat.

"You shouldn't stare at the television like that." He told her as he ate his breakfast.

"Shh!" she hushed as she frowned at anchorwoman's speech. His mother was far more unusual in appearance than him. She'd once told him that through her veins ran the blood of a foreigner despite the fact that he family had lived in Japan for generations. He still wasn't sure whether to believe her or not as he watched her zombie like stare directed at the TV. She was rather tall for a woman in Japan, five feet, ten inches, her hair was deep black like his own, but her eyes, her eyes were a soft amethyst color. Combined with her tanned complexion she had a rather exotic appearance.

He sighed as he finished his breakfast, "Kaa-san." He called to her. "At this rate your eyes will rot and fall out and I'll have a blind woman for a mother."

He stood and walked to the door, "And to think your cooking was already questionable when you could see."

"OI!" She called out to him angrily, but it was too late, he'd already slipped from the house. She glared; she'd get him back later.

He allowed a small smirk to grace his face at the thought of his raging mother. She was normally impervious to insults, but for some reason it always got under her skin when her precious son was the one to fling them. With his headphones secured over his ears and the sounds of well composed music to block out the sounds of traffic and the like, he made his way to school. He always gave himself ample time to get to class as he didn't like to rush. Actually, he took his time with almost everything he did. Not to say that he wasn't capable of hurrying, he could recall several times when his so called mother had purposely made him late in an attempt to ruin his perfect attendance. He paused; the woman was a nuisance, why did he care for her well-being again? He couldn't quite recall. He rid his mind of such thoughts when the school gates came into view, he nearly sighed in relief. He'd made his was to school without running into The Imbecile. Scratch that, he thought as he felt his headphones being snatched off his head.

"So what do we have today?" he heard The Imbecile's voice from behind him.

Turning to coldly stare at him, Tomoe couldn't help the slight irritation of having to stare up at him. Kobushi Tsume, he was an imposing height of six feet, a fact that he enjoyed very much considering he was the younger of the two. His hair was a dark brown, almost black and he had grey hazel eyes. The only thing more unusual was his smile. It had a feral almost predatory quality. It was heavily suspected around the school that he was of mixed heritage, but it couldn't be proven as he much like Tomoe, was found unconscious -although on a river bank instead of the street- with no memory. However, unlike Tomoe he didn't have someone to take him in. Instead he was housed in an orphanage. They expected him to leave this year seeing as he was sixteen, perfectly capable of working and surviving on his own now.

Tsume brought the headphones to his ears only for his expression to go blank as he ripped them back off as though they had offended him, "Not this shit again! Don't you ever listen to anything good?"

Rolling his eyes, he leapt up and snatched the headphones from his grasp. "Your definition of good is the equivalent of baboons banging on trash cans; forgive me if my music's not up to par."

Calmly he turned on his heel and walked towards the building, headphones replaced on his ear. Momentarily he wondered if he should sanitize them, but decided against it, Tsume was annoying but not dirty.

"Oi!" Tsume caught up to him, "So you know we're getting a new teacher right?"

Had the imbecile gone blind? Was it not apparent that he couldn't hear him? He inwardly sighed; he was in no mood to tell him, besides he was probably babbling some idiotic nonsense.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Having finally ditched his moronic acquaintance, he'd arrived in class and taken his seat.

He had fifteen minutes to spare before class started, perfect for a small nap. However his momentary peace was ruined by a repetitive knocking on the wood of his desk. Schooling his face to hide his annoyance, he lifted his head from his desk to stare blandly at the intruder. It was a classmate, one who sat across the room from him.

"Hey sorry to bother you, but I was just wondering, where'd you get those headphones?"

"The mall." He stated blankly.

"Oh. What store?"

Frowning now, "Sony."

_Was it not obvious from the label on the side of them?_

"Oh, cool. So why are you wearing them in class?"

And with that his patience was gone, "So that I can block out the nonsensical chatter of trash like you." He then laid his head back down, assured that no one would bother him again.

The boy was clearly stunned as he made his way back to his chair, looking back to glare at Tomoe as he sat. He thought he'd been unnecessarily rude.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Tomoe's peace was short lived however.

"Ummm…..ano…"

There was presence very close to him; he felt a gentle hand hesitantly touching his back. Opening his eyes he looked up, the classroom was full and the seated students were all staring at him. A slight frown marred his face as he noticed a name written on the board. He looked around the room, as he processed the kanji he'd seen, only for his face to turn into a pair of plush, pillow-like forms.

He moved away slowly to stare up into a blushing face. She had long sunset orange hair and warm grey eyes, but her most noticeable feature was staring him right in the face. He fought the urge to raise an eyebrow at them.

"Headphones aren't allowed in class. Please remove them."

Blinking in surprise, as he'd forgotten he even had them on, he did as she asked mentally recalling her name as he did…_Inoue Orihime._

**

* * *

A/N:** And yes I'm sure it's obvious that Tsume is really Grimmjow. Now I am only assuming that Grimmjow is dead, as his body or rather his actual death is never seen. So if he isn't then let's just assume he is for the sake of this fic.

**Notes:** About their names.

**Kanzenkiba**- is written with the kanji for perfect, complete, & fang. It belongs to the woman who adopted him, but I think it still fits nonetheless.

**Tomoe**- Is written with the kanji for Friend/companion and wise. In this case she gave him the name tomo when she first met him, because she was lonely, but after actually talking to him and learning his personality she added the e for wise.

**Kobushi Tsume**- Simple enough, Kobushi means Fist & Tsume means Claw, a rather fitting name for Grimmjow I think.


	3. Chapter 2 A Ravenous Soul

**A/N:** -_- Hello to you people who read but never review. However I thank quasar73, for putting this fic on their story alerts, at least I know now that it's not COMPLETELY pointless for me to write this. But maybe I shouldn't complain, after all I haven't gotten any flames either. Although at this rate I'd just really like to know how I'm doing.

**Disclaimer:** If you don't know who owns Bleach by now, I have to ask why are you reading Bleach Fanfiction, cuz it ain't me.

* * *

**The Cycle of Souls**

_**A Ravenous Soul**_

_Who the hell is she?_ It was beginning to give him a headache. The woman who stood at the head of his classroom, Inoue Orihime, she was familiar to him. He thought at one point perhaps he'd seen her around before, but no he felt like he knew her far too well for it to have just been a chance sighting. _However_, he thought,_ if I really do know her that well shouldn't she recognize me too?_

His lips twisted into a scowl as he looked away. This was becoming bothersome. He didn't know the woman, yet he felt as though he should. He'd even considered the idea of having run into a look-a-like, but that idea went out the window as both, her face, voice, and even her large breasts were familiar to him. Perhaps he should ask if she had a twin sister running around. He sighed under his breath, this was pointless, he should just try and forget it for the time being. Turning his head back towards the board, he should be paying attention. He froze; he'd nearly turned his face right into Inoue-sans bosom…again.

Her heart shaped face stared down at him with a look akin to concern, "Are you alright, Kanzenkiba-kun? You've been spacing out a lot. Do you feel okay?" the back of her hand pressed against his forehead.

He reflexively snatched her hand away from him. He wasn't used to people touching him, well aside from his mother and occasionally Tsume, but still. Realizing what he was doing, a slight frown made itself known on his face as he gently place her hand on the desk. "I'm fine."

She frowned and it was a disturbingly attractive action as her lips pouted in what he assumed was concern for him, "Mmm…Well if you say so." She stood and he was suddenly thankful for the breathing room, "Just try to pay attention, okay?"

He nodded, just thankful to have the woman away from him, she was intrusive to his space. Watching her figure move to the front of the classroom, he narrowed his eyes as he felt heated glares on his form. He turned to stare in return; several of the males in his class had begun to stare jealously at him, however at his cold stare most turned away nervously. Still a brave few continued to glare at him. They were persistent it seemed, but as he continued to stare, inwardly he smiled, he'd recognized several of them as new members of the Judo club.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

He'd taken to wandering the halls during the lunch; it was the only way to prevent Tsume from finding him and annoying him to the point where he'd plot the younger male's death. Tsume was surprisingly good at finding people, so he'd never stay in one spot for too long, hence the hall wandering. After all he couldn't give his only real moment of peace during school up just for the imbecile to prattle nonsense to him.

Unfortunately for him, it was his own mind that kept him from solitude this time. _Inoue Orihime_, he stared vehemently at the hallway floors, his memories of her were shrouded in secrecy, but just the fact that he knew he had memories of her annoyed him. They were his memories and yet they weren't there for him to call upon. He sighed; he'd be much happier if his past would just leave him alone and stop scattering breadcrumbs.

The next few hours passed uneventfully and quickly. He was thankful for it, he'd spent the rest of his class period, focusing on his work and taking notes in attempt to keep his teacher off his mind. And amazingly, it worked. That is until he walked into the Judo club's dojo afterschool. He'd forgotten the heated stares of his classmates. Well, he did until he felt them attempting to set him aflame. He honestly didn't comprehend what had occured between Inoue-san and himself to incur their wrath. It was needless to say mildly annoying. It seemed that they had yet to learn the club's hierarchy.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

In the span of twenty minutes he had succeeded in expressing the "food chain" of the Judo club to all but the truly thick-headed. Majority of his challengers laid exhausted, red in the face and panting for breath, scattered along the mat covered floor. Only two remained, both however were beginning to tire, while Tomoe stood calmly by an open window, his breath flowing evenly and showing not a trace of exertion. The one on the left, Akihisa Chiba was the first to charge.

"A shame you're not allowed to break bones, eh?" Tsume spoke from his position outside, looking into the window, "Then you wouldn't have to worry about them getting back up, hunh?"

Tomoe merely grunted in response as he darted in, swinging his opponent into an arm-lock. He watched stoically as his opponent cried out in pain, the lock had hindered Akihisa enough for Tomoe to use his momentum against him and push him to the ground. He'd barely had time to pin Akihisa when the other piece of trash, Isano Takai barreled in, intending on pinning him instead.

Tomoe never gave him the chance. Still holding his weight on the boy beneath him, he swept Isano off his feet. Snatching his arm out of the air mid-fall, he slammed him harshly to the ground and held him there with a particularly painful arm-lock. Calmly he waited and soon his patience was rewarded when he heard the sound of tapping against the mat. Releasing them, Tomoe stood only for the imbecile to speak again, "Heh...think they'll stay down this time?"

"Don't you have somewhere to be?" He turned to stare at his grinning associate, "A match I believe?"

"Hah! I didn't think you cared enough to remember my matches?!" Tsume laughed loudly.

"I don't, you idiot." He spoke, wiping the small amount of perspiration from his brow, "I only know because it's the only time you're not around to bother me."

"Heh. Is that what it is?" He questioned himself as he looked away. Raising an eyebrow, "Hey, ain't that the new teacher?"

Tomoe looked against his better judgment. Sure enough, Inoue-san was making her way across the courtyard, headed for the gates most likely.

"Well, see ya! I gotta match to go to after all!" he called dashing in the direction of the gates. Did the fool think him stupid? It was obvious; he was only rushing to bother Inoue-san.

"Kanzenkiba."

Not that he particularly cared. It's just that he couldn't help but wonder if perhaps Inoue-san was familiar to Tsume as well…

"Kanzenkiba!"

….or Tsume was just being himself and was only going to "check her out" more closely. That seemed far more likely. He shook his head at the thought.

"Kanzenkiba!" a heavy hand laid itself upon his shoulder.

He flinched as instinct kicked in and he snatched the offending body part and flipped the body it belonged to. His foot, pressed down against the throat of his assailant and he stared cruelly into the eyes of the man who'd dared touch him. Only for him to observe the shocked face of Tanemura-San…his teacher. Eyes widening, he quickly released the man's hand and removed his foot. Helping him to his feet he apologized, lowering his torso in a slight bow, "Forgive me, Tanemura-San, but you shouldn't sneak up on me."

Tanemura stared down at the 17 year old and a tremble of fear went down his spine as he thought back to the look in his eyes, it was like a demon had pinned him. Shaking the feeling off, he laughed nervously, "Oh, it's no big deal. But really I had been calling your name for some time."

Tomoe frowned, _had he?_ That bothered him, had he been so lost in thought that he didn't notice someone walking up to him, while yelling his name? Inwardly, he cursed Tsume, if the moron hadn't been bothering him, he would have never been staring out the window in the first place. "I see. Then it is my mistake."

"Haha!" Tanemura laughed, "No hard feelings. After all, it's because of those reflexes of yours that we've won the championship 2 years in row!"

The tired and weary boys in the dojo stared in wonder. He was the champion?! No wonder they'd all been dealt with so quickly. They groaned in defeat. It would seem that they would have to take a different route if they wished to vie for Inoue-San's affections. Unknown to them, Tomoe had no clue as to what they were jealous of.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

As usual and much to his annoyance, Tsume had caught up with him on his way home.

"I thought you had a match to win, Tsume?" He stated evenly, hoping that he'd realize how annoyed he was with his presence, but like normal, if Tsume did realize it, he ignored it.

"I did." He grinned to himself.

"Then why are you here?" he asked bitterly.

"I knocked them out in the first round." He smiled in what most would consider a cheeky manner, but it was rather frightening when Tsume did it.

"I see."

Tsume had been boxing as an amateur for a year now. As to him going pro, it was only a matter of when, he was _that_ good. When he'd started it Tomoe looked forward to seeing less of him, but unfortunately, as learning took less time and his number of matches grew, it seemed as though Tsume was too good for many to stand against. Which meant Tomoe was back to square one.

Nothing else was spoken as they stepped into the foyer of his home and removed their shoes. "Tadaima." He called to his mother, who was no doubt vegging out in front of the TV with a bag of chips. He remembered the time he asked why it seemed as though she never worked. So he was unsure of what to say when she said that she didn't. A few days later after a talk with Tsume, he'd made the mistake of asking was she whoring herself. It was the only time he could recall his mother hitting him, although to be honest it was with a blunt object and not her actual hand. He could still feel exactly where the bowling ball had hit him if he thought about it long enough. Needless to say he never discussed his private affairs with Tsume again.

No doubt his mother had spent the day planning her revenge, which was why he'd allowed Tsume to accompany him home. Climbing the stairs, he'd purposely moved quicker than Tsume in the removal of his shoes to put space between them. For some reason, Tsume always served as a distraction to his mother, one that he took advantage of often.

"Oi! Wait up freak!" Tsume called as he clumsily pulled off his shoe and stepped up into the house.

Tomoe almost smiled, he could actually feel the tension as his mother's attention was redirected from the television.

Tsume growled as he made to climb the stairs only to be stopped by someone standing in front of him. He blinked, wasn't she suppose to be lazing in the glow of the TV. Scowling, he attempted to step around her. It didn't work -not that it ever did- as she moved with him. His frustration grew as they began to play a game of side step. Scowling deeply, he faked left and dashed to his right. Grunting as he was quickly shouldered to the floor, he sneered when the she-demon crouched over him, "Say it!"

"Tch!" he looked away.

"Oi!" she pulled him to eye level by his shirt, "Say it."

Growling, he did as she asked, "Konbanwa...Aleasha-san."

Her expression softened and for a moment Tsume considered her to be attractive, "Good evening to you too, Tsume-kun." But then she ruined it by slamming him back to the floor, before going back to her precious TV. Muttering curses, he was sure she could hear he made his way up the stairs.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

One might wonder how Tsume and he could be friends. The answer was fairly simple. They weren't. Well not in the true meaning of the word. They were associates, close associates, but associates nonetheless. The only reason they'd tolerated each other to this point was because of the common bond they shared.

Five years ago, they'd both been found seemingly abandoned in the middle of civilization with no memory of who they were or how they'd gotten there. Worst of all no one knew who they were either. They didn't meet until a few months after the incident, Tsume was 11 and he was 12. His mother was the one to point out that they'd had similar backgrounds and had decided that they should get to know each other. To this day he wasn't sure if he regretted it or not.

"Man, your mom is a fucking bitch!" Tsume complained rubbing his shoulder.

"Then you shouldn't provoke her. You know what she wants to hear, all that's required of you is to simply say it. Then you could avoid the trouble of her making you say it." He sat at his desk, homework already out.

"Tch! And give her the satisfaction of thinking she's won?! Hah!" he made himself comfortable on the bed.

He rolled his eyes, did he not realize that she won reguardless when he said it. "I expect you to straighten every wrinkle out on that bed before you leave." Tomoe told him eyes on his paper.

"Eh?" Tsume stared at him, "You can't be serious."

"When am I ever not serious, Tsume?" he replied.

Tsume didn't bother with a reply; instead he laid back and stared out the window. Tomoe had never directly asked why he never went straight home. He didn't have to. It was common knowledge that Tsume was considered reckless and also seen as a deviant. Whenever he stepped foot into the orphanage he was sent dirty looks and accusing glances, he'd seen it himself a few times. It was an odd experience. So his imbecilic acquaintance spent a few hours at his house before he finally left for the orphanage. As he'd stated before, they weren't friends, they were associates with a common bond. They'd never spoken on their dreams, although both knew the other was having them; they both knew the other was familiar even if the other would say nothing of it, so when the horrific cry sounded, neither said anything. The creature's roar continued for what seemed like hours, before it was seemingly silenced moments later. They both knew what the other was feeling; although he suspected it was worse for Tsume.

The screeching roar echoed within the depths of their soul; that feeling of a desperate hunger that urged to claw up into their throats. "Tsume…"Tomoe stood.

He felt the haunted stare Tsume turned onto his back, "Dinner's probably done." He left the room, only vaguely aware of his associate following behind him. "Yea..."Tsume said weakly.

* * *

**A/N:** Yay!!!!! 5 pages! I am so proud of myself; I succeeded in making the chapter longer!!! Well at this point I can only say please review, let me know how I'm doing.

-Ja ne,

BlackFirelight

**Japanese 101**

**_Tadaima-_** I'm Home

**_Kon ban wa -_** Good evening or Good afternoon, i can't remember , lol


	4. Chapter 3 Lament of the Librarian

**A/N: **Okay well first things first! Thank you my few but awesome reviewers, you guys (as well as **Shoujixyo-chan**, who never reviewed but asked a hell-of-a-lotta questions!) make writing this story worth it! Second of all you may notice the lack of Tomoe(Ulquiorra) and Tsume(Grimmjow) in this chapter, but do not fret they will be back next chapter!

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Bleach or any of its corresponding characters, although I wish did.

* * *

**The Cycle of Souls**

_**Lament of the Librarian**_

Unbearable. That's what it was. She could no longer take this job. She hated the stuffy heat, despised the dusty environment that she was expected to spend hours in, but most of all she hated _them._

Them being the loud, lecherous group of males who sat in the rear corner of the library. Always they would have little to no concern for anyone other than themselves. The only time that they would spare their attention elsewhere was when one of her fellow librarians walked by. They would then harass the poor woman with lascivious comments and catcalls. It utterly disgusted her, which is why she did everything in her power to avoid the rear of the library. Instead she preferred to work the front of the building, everything was much better there, the air was cleaner, the lighting; brighter, and even the people were nicer.

And it had always worked out for her, until today that is. Today, fate had decided to be a cruel bitch. At least in her book it had.

"Ah! Hyoujin-san!" Mika called out in her small voice.

She looked over to the petite, nineteen year old girl. The miniature librarian was small and curvy, barely coming to 5 feet. Fukami envied her. While she in no way lacked curves, she was much taller than Mika-chan. Her small friend was the same average height of many women in the city; Fukami however, was a surprising height of 5'10. It was a drawback for the men who would normally approach her. And although she wasn't looking for a relationship, she couldn't deny that the idea hadn't crossed her mind. It was just one of many disappointments in her life she supposed. Still, she moved over to the girl and gave her an inquiring look.

"I'm sorry to ask this of you, Hyoujin-san, but do you think you could reshelf these for me." She gestured to a tall stack of books. Glancing at them Fukami almost immeadiately acquiesced, but paused as she noted the call numbers on the spines. These books belonged to the shelves in the rear, a place that she dreaded going, but as she looked up at Mika, sitting at swamped front desk she couldn't say no. She resisted for many moments before a grimace spread on her face as she sighed in defeat. She gave her a gentle but hesitant smile as she nodded and pushed the cart towards the back of the library.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Sentani Chiharu was a very attentive young man and despite that fact, he failed many of his classes. The reason for this was simple, all of his observational skills were focused on one single thing; women. So yea, he saw her in the corner of his eye, but she wasn't worth the attention. Sure she had nice legs, but so did a lot of women in the library. Her posture was terrible; she looked like she was built like stick and she had no bosom to speak of. So he blinked when something caught his gaze, turning he stared in shock at the woman shelving books from her perch on a ladder.

Now, it was a known fact that the 22 year old did not lack in the breast department nor was she shapeless; no, Fukami had just learned to disguise these facts from the more lecherous visitors. She'd learned to walk with a slight hunch and wear loose fitting dresses with wool cardigans over them to under-exaggerate both her cup size and her figure. So when she felt Chiharu's eyes on her she became greatly uncomfortable. Frowning she glanced over to him; his eyes ogling her with new found reverence, a perverted grin on his face, he nudged his friends until they too gawked at her. She stared in dismay, what _were_ they looking at? Her eyes diverted downward quickly to look herself over and to her horror she realized why they were staring so intently. In her attempt to reach a higher shelf, she'd stretched upward, arching her back and in the process revealing the true size of her bust as well as raising her dress over her thighs. In embarrassment she hurried to fix her clothing, however in her rush she lost her balance rather quickly and with a wide eyed look of terror, she toppled from the ladder.

Groaning as she sat up, she gingerly rubbed her back as it had taken the fall more than any other part of her. She starred up at the ladder miserably and turned to look at the group of boys only to frown at their intense stares. Quickly staring down at herself, she grimaced inwardly, her sprawled position had done nothing to help her, in fact it only made things worse as it had pulled her dress tight over her curves, leaving little to the imagination. Glaring at the boys in indignations, her embarrassment began to change into something else entirely. Never having truly noticed Fukami until now, the deviant group of school-skipping boys studied their new eye candy vigorously. She may not have been petite, but her body was lush with curves as well as covered in an exotic, toned hazelnut skin. Her dark hair hung low to her hips with her long bangs framing her stubborn but pretty face. And her eyes; her dark sea green eyes that glared fiercely were mere testaments to her islander heritage.

She was not upset; she was not mad; she wasn't just angry; she was _pissed_. Unfortunately, however her heated anger was not enough to overcome the obstacle that prevented her from declaring her anger. For you see, despite her overall health, Fukami was mute.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

She had been mute from the beginning; Ever since they found her wandering on the beach with little to no coordination. When her adopted family found her, she was unable to stop crying. Something had upset her, something from before. Unable to recall what was previous to her current life they said it was probably for the best that she didn't remember. However the pain weighed on her soul and had since taken its toll on her in the form of silence.

She no longer cried for her unremembered hurt, no when she cried it was for the loss of the family that had taken her in. They had given her shelter, kindness, and a name. A mother and her daughter resided on the beach and together they ran an inn. They shared with her the name Hyoujin and named her Fukami for her strange fascination with sharks. She was surprised when they gave her the name as she thought she'd done well in hiding her mild interest in the creature, but apparently she'd done not well enough.

Fukami claimed that she no longer cried for the pain of the past, but unbeknownst to her, at night when subdued by the vivid images of her dream world she shed tears for the pain of her loss, both old and new. Her dreams had at one point been clear and understandable despite the great confusion she felt at waking. But now her dreams were nightmares; fragmented memories of her foster family's last moments and the haunting illusions of a past she couldn't recall. The kind face of Kasumi mere minutes before her last breath, the silhouetted figures of three young women, and the cruel smile of a man before the bite of blinding pain woke her.

She clenched her fist as she sat up from her futon. Anger and the bitter sting of betrayal coursed through her, as it always did. Soon however it simply faded, she could think of no reason to feel such things, but she did. It was something that she learned not to think of over the years. It was how she survived, she knew if she dwelled on it too much it would drive her insane and she refused to give in to such a thing. She'd stay strong no matter what; she'd do it for Kasumi and Chihiro-san and for the sake of her past. So she had ignored many things in the name of keeping her sanity, including ignoring the things that nobody else seemed to notice. Like, for instance; the gentle yet chaotic pressure that seemed to swamp the city at times or perhaps the terrible cry of some unseen creature. Both of these common occurrences seemed to coincide with each other and even as they made themselves known now, one would never know it observing her. Only a keen eye would notice the slight hesitation that stilled her arm before she continued brushing her teeth.

Another odd thing about herself that she kept hidden, were her linguistic skills. Like everyone else when it came to writing and reading she had to learn, however when it came to speaking and listening, she knew it all. Literally, she could both speak and understand every language she'd ever come in to contact with, although due to her condition she'd never actually spoken any of the languages she knew. Originally she'd thought to attend school and major in a language for this specific reason. Kasumi said that she could travel as a translator with that type of degree, but they joked that it would be difficult because she'd only be able to translate spoken words onto paper or through sign language. But that never happened. After that day she couldn't bear to be far from their graves so she settled for the job of a librarian. It wasn't dangerous or exciting; no it was rather peaceful and dull. She'd fooled herself into believing that she just saving money for her trip, but deep down she knew the truth. She couldn't leave, she felt obligated; she'd failed to protect them, all of them, so she committed herself to watching over their graves. A daunting and depressing task, but one that she could not force herself to give up.

Always, her mind was busy. Even through the hours of cataloging and shelving books her thoughts were on one or the other; her past or the strange happenings around her. Out of all the strange things she'd been subjected to, the most annoying was one she dealt with 8 hours a day, 6 days a week. She hummed a nameless tune as she shelved hoping to drown out the perverted giggling she heard behind her. The spirit had been here for about 3 weeks, she had once been a college student before her untimely death outside the library. Now she haunted the building, this was something that Fukami could come to terms with, something that she could ignore. There was just however one flaw to the spirit…

"Good Afternoon, Fukami-chan!" the transparent girl's hands fastened around her bosom in a remarkable amount of speed.

….she was utterly perverted. And if there was anything Fukami detested, it was a perverse nature.

"And good afternoon to you too, my lovelies!" she spoke as she continued to fondle her breasts.

In a fit of silent and placid rage, Fukami turned and slammed a book into her face. And as always she was pleasantly surprised to find that oddly enough, objects released from her hand were capable of making contact with the deceased when nothing else would. Grunting in satisfaction, she could barely school a look false innocence upon her face as she turned and found Mika staring at her oddly. The young girl continued to stare before an awkward smile lifted the corners of her mouth, nodding politely she walked away. Sure Mika had always been polite and nice to her but, she was positive the girl thought she had a few loose screws. And perhaps, thought Fukami as she continued her work, maybe she did.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX **

Sighing after a long and welcome stretch she felt herself relaxing, it was her favorite time of the day; after work. Gathering her things, she began to check for any soon to be overnight guests. Finding none, she flipped off the lights and left from the library's rear, making sure to lock the door behind her. She was often the one to close down the building as only she and Mika worked the last shift of the day and Mika usually had another job to run off to.

She frowned in distaste as her stomach protested its current state. She had forgotten her lunch today so she was forced to go without, but now that work was over she could stop by the convenience store and purchase her dinner. Idly, she began to ponder what food item it was that her stomach craved most. So taken with her wonderings was she that she was unaware of her stalker until it was too late.

She stumbled over as the weight of another's body collided with her. Forcing her up against the back alley's wall she could only stare in shock as she recognized the face of captor. He was one of the boys from yesterday, Shinzen Kitaro. However her shock quickly left her as she felt his hands roaming her body. She scowled angrily as she attempted to shove him off of her. Unfortunately for her she was far weaker than the large boy who'd cornered her.

"Haha, who'd have thought Hyoujin-san would have so much fight in her" he laughed as he slid his hands over thighs. He only grinned when he snatched up her leg as she attempted to knee him, "Now, now, behave…" his grin widened as he paused, "or I'll have to punish you"

She stared at him in indignation, she couldn't believe this was happening to her, she clenched her fist.

Positioning himself between her thighs, he licked lips and leaned over to her ear, "And you wouldn't want to be punished would you?" even as he stated this his tone gave away the fact that he would no doubt take pleasure in doing just that.

Her nails pierced the soft skin of her palm at his words and at that moment a strange feeling overcame her, it piggy-backed the adrenaline already coursing through her veins. And as it flooded her body, she could no longer hold back the urge to act, so she did. She struck him. It was of great surprise to the boy, he'd never seen it coming and now he probably never would.

She stared in a strange combination of shock, fear, and glee. She hadn't expected her fist to do much, if anything she'd thought it would only anger him. Instead she was gazing down at his prone form, a thin line of blood already dribbling down his face. She glanced down at her still clenched hand and felt more so than saw the strange energy that had over taken her, fading away. What had she done? She looked back to the teenage delinquent, saw his motionless form, glazed eyes, and still chest and with a look of horror she realized; he was dead. She'd killed him. And in her fear she ran.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

She smiled serenely as the smell of her dinner began to permeate her home. With an expert hand she sautéed her vegetables in a mixture of rendered bacon fat and maple syrup. To her left her rice cooker hummed with the sound of electricity as it steamed the small grains in spicy pickle juice. With a few more expert wrist flicks her vegetables were done to the appropriate texture and firmness. Setting the pan to the side she then moved to her small table top griddle where small strips of beef -marinated in an almost normal combination of hot sauce, soy sauce, brown sugar, and garlic- sizzled. All in all it led to a rather strange sickly sweet smell. And yet Orihime's mouth watered at the aroma.

It wasn't long before she sat at her table with a bowl full of odd smelling rice covered in a bright yellow swirl of mustard, a dish of beef strips designed with zigzags of chocolate sauce and ketchup, as well as bowl of vegetables weighted down by a thick brown gelatinous goop. Smiling in delight she reached for her chopsticks, "Itadakimasu!" she snapped the sticks apart. However before she could get her first taste of mustard and spicy pickle rice a knock sounded in her tiny apartment. Blinking, she placed her eating utensils on her koi shaped chopstick holder. Standing up, she made her way to the front door, but before she got there she heard the knock again. Looking over her shoulder she realized it wasn't coming from her door, but rather her window. Frowning, she walked over and slid the frosted window open. She stared for a moment, taking in the familiar black kimono and sandals, raising her head, she was met with a head of messy orange hair.

"Kurosaki-kun?" she asked in surprise.

With an embarrassed smile, he rubbed the back of his neck, "Hey, Inoue-san. Can I come in?"

"Oh!" she started with a blush, "Of course!" she made way for him to step into her home.

The shinigami paused as an odd look crossed his face. "Inoue-san?"

"Hmm?" she looked to him as she returned to her seat.

"What's that smell?" he looked a little nauseous now.

She grinned, pleased that someone else noticed the wonderful aroma of her cooking, "Dinner!" she gestured to her meal.

"Oh." He deadpanned, "Of course."

* * *

**A/N:** And once again I am happy that I managed to keep the length of the chapter consistent if not longer! Hee! Oh! And if anyone can guess who the pervy ghost girl is you'll get a prize! The prize is the answer to any question about this fic. (That is without me telling you the plot, lol) Oh! And check the poll on my profile! Pick which Arrancar you wanna see in this fic!

**Names:**

_**Hyoujin: **__Hyou- _means 'Turbulent water' & _Jin-_ means 'Blade'

_**Fukami:**__ Fuka-_ means 'Shark' & _Mi-_ means 'Beauty'

-Ja ne!

BlackFirelight


	5. Chapter 4 A Sea of Power

**A/N:** Ello! Thanks to the people who reviewed: tlg, Blackheart214, Shoujixyo-chan, Reiuko, Britt-Ulquiorra, Unek, & goggleTree

**Disclaimer:** Hehe….I do believe it's quite obvious I do not own Bleach, but to those out there who need me to constantly say it: I DON'T F*bleep* OWN BLEACH!!!!.........*ahem* that wonderful entitlement belongs to Tite Kubo.

* * *

**The Cycle of Souls**

_**A Sea of Power**_

His stomach protested weakly as he watched her eat. Sure he'd known Inoue for six years and had grown used to her odd taste in cuisine, but still he could not contain the unease his digestive track felt at her choice in food.

Noticing his attention to her dinner she stared at him, "Kurosaki-kun?"

"Eh?" he blinked out of his daze of watching her eat.

"Did you want some?"

His eyes widened in slight fear, "Ah…heh no, no thank you, Inoue. I'm fine." He shook his head quickly.

"Are you sure?" she had leftovers she thought.

"Really, I'm fine. Really!"

"Oh." She paused staring down at her rice, "Well then…" she looked up to study his face, "Is something wrong?"

An unknown emotion overshadowed his face, "Why do you say that?" he asked, eyes downcast.

"Well…" she paused looking away, "It's just that you're here at my house. At 10 o'clock, in your shinigami robes. And you knocked on my window, not my door."

He stared in a blank gesture of submission as he realized; he was wasn't he. And he did didn't he. So he spoke on it. "Eto….It's just that." He paused unsure of how to explain this, looking away he continued, "…I don't wanna go home."

She looked at him in surprise, "Why not?"

Starring down at his lap he let out a massive sigh before speaking, "I just…..I just can't take it anymore!" he spoke loudly as he allowed himself to fall back to the floor.

She blinked, confused and in typical Orihime fashion she gave him a smile that said just that, "Can't take what, Kurosaki-kun?"

He was silent for a moment but then he began to rant, "All the kicking, the punching, the biting! And even the slapping! And then the _groping_! Not to mention the slamming!" he became very animated on the tatami mat floor as he began to partially act out his accusations, "And…and…and…and I just wanna sleep…in one piece…peacefully…just once."

And with that it clicked, "Ara…Are you talking about Nel-chan?" she blinked at him owlishly.

Wearily he nodded his head. He cared about Nel, really he did, but his body could only take so much. Between work and his shinigami duties he barely got enough sleep as it was, but with Nel in the same bed as him, he often left the bed exhausted and feeling like he'd been in a battle with her versus the reality of him only having slept in the same bed as her.

He sat up and stared at Orihime, the dark circles around his eyes and the tired motion in which he carried his body becoming more obvious, "…Can I sleep here tonight?"

"Eh?" she stared, "What about Sado-kun's?" once upon a time she'd been in love with the substitute shinigami and although she no longer felt for him that way, the thought of him spending the night in her home made her nervous.

He shook his head, "Chad's outta town and I don't think he'd appreciate me staying in his home when he's not there."

"ah…naruhodo…and Ishida-kun?"

His eyes wandered to the ceiling as he thought about it, "He kicked me out."

"Oh…why?"

He looked away his interest seemingly having moved to her walls, "He said he was tired of me always complaining about it…"

A large anime sweat drop began to form on her head as she stared at him, how long had this been going on?

He continued without her beckoning, "And I couldn't go to Tatsuki-chan's because…well…" he plucked at his shinigami robes, "yea."

Staring at him with a look strongly resembling pity, "I see."

He recognized the look for what is was, but he no longer cared if people pitied him. Hell, at this rate, he preferred it when they did; it made the chances that they'd agree better. "Please, Inoue-san!" he lowered himself to the floor.

Orihime's eyes grew wide as saucers as she saw him bow deeply on her floor. Banging her knee as she stood, her hands flailed wildly as she called for him to get up, "No! No, no, no! That's not necessary Kurosaki-kun!" but still he persisted, "….ah….ah…Yes! Yes, you can stay!"

"Really?" he raised his head.

"Yes." She nodded frantically.

"Oh. Okay thanks." He sat up and looked around the room, before starring at the spot beneath the window, "I'll sleep there." And with that he promptly made himself comfortable on her floor.

She gazed at the orange haired male shifting around on the tatami mats before quickly dozing off under her window and thought with a frown,_ why do I feel as though I've been conned?_ However, her thoughts on this subject were quickly forgotten as a dull ache in the area of her knee made itself known. "Itaiiiiiii…" she whined as she sat down clutching her poor knee, she'd become so flustered she hadn't realized what she'd done. And that was how Kurosaki Ichigo, 21 year old workaholic and substitute soul reaper of Karakura town began his habit of sleeping on her floor every other night.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

He groaned as the early morning light blinded him as he opened his eyes. A low growl escaped his lips as he cursed his coverless window for what seemed to be the millionth time in his life. An unpleased scowl rested on his face as he forced his legs over the side of the bed and with a restless groan he stood. Stretching his long limbs as his feet staggered on the cold hard wood flooring he made his way to the bathroom, too tired to register the slight sound of giggling. Stumbling pass the mirror, with barely opened eyes he relived himself. After flushing the toilet, he paused. _What the fuck is that noise? _Reaching over, he snatched the door open only to see two small heads of dark hair duck around the corner. Scowling in confusion now, he shook his head and proceeded to wash his hands. Sighing, as the giggling persisted he glanced back at the door with a weary look, _what the hell were those little brats up to now?_ Rolling his eyes he turned back to the sink, reaching for his wash cloth, but paused mid-movement. He was entranced by his reflection. Something was wrong with this image he decided, but everything seemed normal; his slightly wavy black hair, his scowl, his sharper than normal teeth, his grey eyes, his…he stared. _Is that?....no…but it is…_he frowned, his expression turning predatory as he heard the giggling again. He tore out of the room nearly ripping the bathroom door off the hinges as he spotted the twin girls who took off rather quickly at the sight of his enraged face.

"Kiriko! Kana!" Tsume gave chase eagerly leaping down the stairs of the orphanage, determined to catch the laughing, devious duo that'd had the nerve to paint his eyelids with turquoise eye shadow. Thundering around the large rooming-style home, he was quite aware of the noise he was making, but was far too determined to care, he was _going_ to catch them this time. Nearly slipping on the hallway rug as he rounded a corner, he quickly righted himself only to crash headlong into Chisaki-san, the Orphanage's caretaker and judging by the disgusting look on her face she wasn't happy to see him.

"How dare you!? Running around the house at this hour! Waking everyone up, have you no common sense!?" her shrill voice carrying loudly, Tsume decided that while _he_ may have woken her up, _her_ voice could wake the dead.

"Tch!" he looked away as he stood to his full height, purposely towering over the short, round woman. He saw the fear in her eyes as she stared hatefully at him. "Well, boy! What do you have to say for yourself!?"

He wanted to strangle the bitch, but refrained, instead his eyes glanced over her shoulder to the two girls who gave him apologetic glances before sneaking away with guilt ridden faces. He snorted at his luck, looking down at the ignorant woman,_ what did he have to say for himself?_ He sneered at her, a sharp canine showing itself, giving him a rather feral look, "Shut the fuck up. It's too early for your bullshit." And with that he turned and walked away quickly climbing the stairs, before she could reprimand him.

Chisaki stood their gaping, her mouth opening and closing like a hungry carp in a pond. The nerve of that hoodlum! She couldn't wait until he was gone! Clenching her fist as her face took on an awful shade of purplish-red she seethed in her anger at the thought of Tsume's face. But then a thought occurred to her as her mouth dropped open again. The boy had had on eye shadow. She gasped as a new thought occurred to her, he was bad enough as a ruffian, but now he was trying to be an _okama?!_ So caught up was she in her nonsensical fantasies she didn't notice the two twin figures darting past her with perfected stealth. Not even aware of them when they stopped to snicker at her face. Laughing silently to themselves they snuck back up the stairs.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

It wasn't a secret that Chisaki didn't like him, _hell_ no one in the orphanage liked him, they either thought he was weird or they followed the hag's perception of him and thought him to be some yakuza wannabe. That was actually the main reason why he had the "_privilege"_ of having a room to himself, no one wanted to room with him. Not that he cared, _Fuck them._ The only ones who actually acknowledged him were the ones too young to understand their prejudices. Snarling to himself, he forcefully packed his school bag and hurriedly dressed himself. When he stepped out his room intending to bolt down the stairs and out the door without a seconds notice, he paused, eyes still focused straight ahead. "It's fine." He took off then, feeling the rather concerned gazes of the two little girls who'd stood by his door way. He couldn't take this shithole much longer.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

He wasn't concerned. No, it was just rather…odd. Tsume hadn't approached him in the usual manner; no instead he'd just stepped into his path and continued on as if nothing had happened. It was a highly unusual occurrence. Quickening his stride unnoticeably until he was parallel to Tsume, Tomoe studied his strangely silent acquaintance. He frowned then, coming to a complete stop as Tsume continued on unaware. "Oi. Imbecile." He spoke monotonously, his voice neither loud nor quiet.

Tsume paused then looking back, not quite sure if he'd been insulted or not, "hm?" he frowned at the look of absolute disgust on Tomoe's face. "What the fuck? Why the hell are you looking at me like that?!"

"Okama." Even as Tomoe said the word it was spoken with a tone of disbelief.

"Nani?!" Tsume growled at him, _What the fuck did that freak just call me?!_

Sighing, Tomoe studied him before beginning, "Even if you can't get a job like a normal person, I advise you not to bother taking such a route, you're far too ugly to do such a job. Any customers you might get would probably retch at the sight of you." Walking past, he glanced at him, "Correction; I'm positive they would."

"Oi! What the fuck are you tal…" Tsume trailed off as he recalled his morning, eyes widening, his hand ghosted across his face as he remembered. He'd been in such a hurry to get out the house that he'd forgotten to wash his face. "FUCK!" he then ran off without a moment's notice. Probably to find a washroom to clean off his eyelids, not that it really mattered to Tomoe. In fact, Tomoe merely stared after him blandly, "Aho."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Class had been uneventful for the most part, but then the most astounding thing had happened; he'd been asked to stay afterschool. He was shocked, but he refused to show it, instead he nodded his head to the request, leaving the surprised expressions to his classmates as they demonstrated the emotion far better than he ever could. So now he stood boredly in front of Inoue-san's desk, hands stuffed into his pockets, his body slouched nonchalantly, messenger bag shouldered, headphones around his neck pouring out a low stream of notes. Obviously, he didn't think much of what she had to say. Inwardly Orihime cringed; she doubted he was even listening as she noted the faraway look in his eyes.

Why was he even still here? The woman wasn't complaining about his grades or his behavior, no she was actually complaining about his lack thereof. Apparently she was concerned for him, because he wasn't social and seemed rather distant. Did she think him strange? He snorted at the thought, if that was so, then the woman had him beat in that area many times over. He still didn't understand what made a woman like her become a teacher, or even how that had happened for that matter, but then looking over the woman's remarkable assets he momentarily pondered the idea of her using them to get her way. However he quickly disposed of the thought, she was far too air-headed to even consider it. She was not a bad teacher, but she was definitely a very weird woman. She was notoriously clumsy, tripping over several inanimate objects, often disorganizing their papers simultaneously. She frequently spoke using childish made-up words, that while some seem to consider cute, he thought to be a disgrace to the Japanese language. Even weirder were the crazy ideas that floated through her head, the few times she'd been late or was unable to return their papers in time, she'd given them insane excuses that were so ridiculous that he was sure the only reason she spoke them was because she believed them to be 100% fact.

She frowned, "Kanzenkiba-kun?"

His eyes slowly slid down to her person, his intense stare causing a blush to form on her face. Starring at her a moment longer, he began to speak; "You are not complaining about my grades, they're the highest in the school. Nor are you reprimanding me for bad behavior, as I have not demonstrated any. Correct?"

She blinked at his slightly irritated tone, "Ah…ano…Hai."

"Then I see no reason for me to be here." He turned to leave, however his eyes soon widened in surprise at the small dainty hand on his arm.

"Ah! Sorry." She released his sleeve, "Well…umm...ahh…" her hands began to flutter through the air as she nervously searched for an excuse, but soon gave up.

His eyes studied the rapid movement of her body. Everything she did carried so much expression that he doubted she could lie even if she tried. Momentarily, he pondered if she ever did anything the normal way.

"Ummm, well I still think you should…you should participate more often." She stared at him hopefully from behind her desk.

Mentally, he rolled his eyes, the woman was a nuisance. Opening his mouth to rebuff her statement, he never got the chance. His body tensed as he heard the familiar pained roar of some creature unseen. He hadn't been expecting to hear one so close to the school, but even more so he hadn't been expecting his strange teacher to stare wide eyed in the direction the sound had originated from. He stared at her with narrowed eyes, she'd heard the sound.

"Umm…I'm sorry, but can we finish this conversation tomorrow? I just remembered something I have to do." She gathered her stuff quickly and dashed out the room nearly tripping in the door way as she ran out.

He stared after her with a look of heavy interest. It occurred to him that her reaction spoke not only of her being able to hear it, but of recollection, this told of knowledge, she knew what that sound was. She knew what was causing it. She had knowledge that he didn't. Pivoting sharply, he left the room and soon the building. He'd find out what she knew.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX **

Fukami quickly skittered nervously around the turns of the suburbs, her long legs carrying her quickly to her destination. She was determined to return from the store without encountering anyone. She couldn't take the questions anymore. They'd found the boy's body and had soon begun questioning her fellow employees so it was no surprise when they'd questioned her. After all she was what they hoped to be their prime witness. She was the only one in the building during the suspected time of death. Of course only she knew that really she wasn't just the prime witness but also the prime suspect. She didn't know how she'd done it, but so far her lies had kept her safe. However despite that fact, she still felt afraid that someone would discover the truth at any moment, so she avoided people for the time being. She'd taken a few days off of work and holed up in her apartment. She was nearly there, when she'd heard it.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX **

He sighed in boredom, he'd really been looking forward to a fight today, but unfortunately his prey-to-be had forfeited. And while sure, he got paid, he'd been hoping to have something to take his agitation out on, but apparently fate wanted him to be an asshole today, so who was he to argue. Making his way down the street, he was debating on going to the freak's house or going…_home_. Baring his teeth at the thought of dealing with Chisaki in his current mood, he decided to wander as he was likely to actually kill her right now. But his wandering was interrupted by a cry that had chilled him for as long as he could remember.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

He cursed lowly under his breath, he'd lost her. She'd taken off somewhere into the suburbs, not too far from his own home, but after a few sharp turns, she disappeared. Taking his time, he began to methodically search for her street by street, but was soon given an obvious clue to her location when he heard her loudly call out, "Koten Zanshun!"

He frowned, _cutting shield?...what the hell was the crazy onna babbling about now? _Ignoring the thought for now, he began to make a mad dash for her direction when he screamed falling to his knees. It had caught him completely off guard; there was no way for him to be prepared for the wave of power that had erupted violently from her location. It rode over him like on ocean wave, sending his mind tumbling. The darkness was hollow and dizzying, he was aware only of the fact that he was aware of nothing. He wasn't sure how long he was unconscious but when he awoke it was still daylight and the street was as unoccupied as it was when he first wandered upon it. Grunting, he pulled himself up, nearly falling back down when the headache assaulted him. He was sure that it wasn't possible, but his mind hurt. It felt like somebody had placed a wedge on the crown of his head and slammed a hammer down onto it, splitting his head in two. Grimacing, he stood uneasily and with labored breathing he headed home. Inoue-san was of little importance now; he could barely function properly let alone question her.

Stumbling into the house with all the grace of a severely drunken man, he was vaguely aware of his mother's presence as she questioned him, he wasn't sure if he answered or not, everything had faded into a black abyss.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

He came to with labored breathing, starring up at a dimly lit sky. Night was falling. Sitting up sharply, he cried out as he nearly blacked out again from the pain drilling through his head. It occurred to him that he was lying out on the street, gritting his teeth he made the effort to stand, but as his vision blurred and he fell back on his ass, he decided that maybe being passed out on the street wasn't so bad. But then again he didn't have much of a choice as darkness claimed him once more.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

When she awoke, her mind was feverish, between the pain, the voices that burned through her mind, and the bright colors that assaulted her eyes she was unable to utter but a few incomplete words, before she was drug back under by the sound of her own voice, _'Aizen!'_

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Satisfied with her work, she'd been half way home when she recalled her rather rude parting from school. A nervous frown on her face, she hoped Kanzenkiba-kun forgave her, but then again he didn't seem like the type to forgive and forget. She sighed forlornly. In her despair, she was ignorant of the prone forms lying unconsciously in an alleyway. A tall dark haired man and a small blonde girl, their groceries both scattered unceremoniously on the ground and crushed beneath them.

Stepping into her home, she was surprised to find her lights already on. Rounding the corner, she was even more surprised to find Ichigo stretched out under her window reading a magazine. A sweat drop formed as she stared at his relaxed figure, "Ah…Kurosaki-kun…"

He glanced up, "Oh, hey Inoue."

Looking down with a small smile, she thought to herself, …_had it already been 2 days?_

* * *

**A/N: **Yosh! I finished!!!!! Hahahaha!!! *ahem* Now for my apology: eeep! Don't kill me! I'm sorry I haven't updated in a few weeks, I was delayed by the holidays and stress and looking for a job (still don't have one *sad face*) That and I hadn't been in the mood to write until now, so there ya go! And I hope you notice that it's longer than the other chapters too! Please review, cuz I probably won't update any time soon unless I get 20 reviews in total. Not trying to be a review whore or anything, I just need to be aware if people actually like it or not. **_Oh! and check out the poll on my profile to vote for which arrancar you wanna see!_**

-BlackFirelight

**Japanese 101 (lol)**

_**Eto-**_ basically it kinda means Umm

_**Naruhodo-**_ a way of saying 'I see' and really meaning it

_**Itai-**_ Ouch or It hurts

_**Okama-**_ kinda like a professional cross dresser, they frequently work at bars pretending, dressing and acting like women.

_**Oi-**_ Hey

_**Nani-**_ What

_**Aho-**_ a particularly harsh way of saying fool, dumbass, etc.

_**Ano-**_ Well

_**Hai-**_ yes

_**Onna-**_ woman or female

Notes: If I'm wrong on any of these feel free to correct me.


	6. Chapter 5 Mirage

**A/N: **So you might immediately notice that this chapter is a hell of a lot longer than the previous ones. (yay!) Now it might seem like I'm being a bit awful to Tsume in this chapter but don't worry it's not forever, lol. Oh and please check out the poll for this fic!

**Disclaimer: **I DO NOT own Bleach. If I did, you'd be watching/or/reading (manga) this instead of viewing it on FF.

* * *

**The Cycle of Souls**

_**Mirage**_

With a sigh he awoke. Taking in the dark but familiar scenery and the sound of a television he realized he was home, but why was he in his mother's room? He laid there, in the comfort of darkness pondering his last memories. He'd fainted. At least he'd made it home before doing so. Running his hands through his hair, he proceeded to stretch the stiffness from his joints. He frowned however, when his arm was met with resistance. Turning, his eyes widened before narrowing to slits and his mouth thinned into a straight line is his displeasure. For you see in turning to his left he found himself nearly nose to nose with a sleeping Tsume._ Why the fuck is this dumbass next to me?_

_**~ The Night Before~**_

She wasn't sure what had happened to him, but he seemed fine given the exception of a slight fever, so after situating him in her bed on the first floor, she left. She'd been having a taste for beer for a few hours now, but she figured she'd wait for her son to get home so she could send him to the store. She didn't mind waiting a few extra hours if it meant that she didn't have to get properly dressed and walk to the store, however when said son arrived he was in no condition to do it. So, to her annoyance, she threw on a pair of jeans and a jacket over her white tank, she was too lazy to look for socks so she just slid on a pair of flip flops. Yes, she was aware of how bummy she looked, but she really didn't care, it wasn't as if she wanted to be outside anyway.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXX **

She was a mere two blocks from the house when she noticed a dark shape in her peripheral vision. Cocking her head she studied the figure. She blinked, wasn't that Tsume, her son's friend? What the hell was he doing lying out on the street like that? Frowning, she looked around, her bag knocking against her leg, reminding her of its burden. Glancing down at the bag then back at the helpless boy she decided, _Oh well, if he wanted to sleep on the street who was she to stop him._

She'd managed a whole five steps before her conscience won out. Sighing, she made her way over to the young male. Crouching near him, her gaze became concerned as she studied his harsh breathing and flushed face. Feverish. Just like her own son. Rolling her eyes in an exasperated fashion she let out a ragged sigh before heaving him up. Her eyes widened as she nearly stumbled over from his weight, sure she knew he'd be heavy, but not _that_ heavy. What the fuck was the boy eating? _Cinder blocks?!_ Positioning his arm over her shoulder, she gripped his waist with her right arm; her concealed burden thudding against Tsume's knees as she began to drag him back to her place.

When she got there, she immediately tossed him haphazardly onto her bed next to Tomoe. It occurred to her that it might seem awkward to them, but there was _no way_ she was going to carry his heavy ass up the stairs, so they'd just have to deal. Kicking off the shoes and tossing her jacket into a corner she plopped down with a welcome sigh. Reaching over into her bag she wrestled out a can of the malt beverage and with a content look on her face popped it open.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Glaring harshly, he pulled his knees to his chest and with a sharp thrust he forcefully expelled Tsume from the bed. Said boy grunted in a weak protest before rolling over and falling back into complete unconsciousness. Standing Tomoe made his way over the bed and stepped over Tsume, slamming the shoji doors open harshly to stare at his mother, who turned to stare at him ever so innocently, a potato chip mere centimeters from her mouth. With a scowl on his lips he gazed darkly at Tsume before returning his glare to her.

"What?" She asked unperturbed pushing the chip into her mouth. He stared at her in disgust before shaking his head. There was no point in trying to talk to her when she behaved like this. He stepped out the room and turned to slide the doors shut.

She looked at him with an unreadable expression, "You feeling better?"

He paused in his motion. Staring at the mat covered floor he realized she was concerned. He nodded slowly. Inwardly frowning at the sudden cheerful grin that erupted on her face, "Well then" she began, "It is _your_ turn to fix breakfast and seeing as your no longer sick any more I suggest you hop to it."

He scowled at her before heading into the kitchen. The woman was conniving and lazy, he couldn't wait to move out so she'd have to do everything on her own. He was positive she'd regret abusing her position over him because there was just no way he was going to visit her often. Not to say that he was going to neglect his mother, just that she'd probably be receiving an awful lot of phone calls. There was only so much she could make him do over the phone. Still lost in thought he reached up into the cupboard for a pan and in his zoned out state didn't realize what was happening until it was too late.

The pans had been over stacked and were barely balanced to begin with so with his slight tug they all came tumbling down. His eyes widening, he dove to catch them, knowing that he wouldn't be able to, but attempting it anyway. However the strangest thing happened; he couldn't see what happened. His vision had gone blurry unexpectedly and he stumbled over, a strange feeling overcoming his body and suddenly his limbs felt strange. And to his surprise, every single pot and pan that had tumbled from the cupboard was currently embraced in his grasp. Well that is until they fell on the floor as his arms weren't meant to hold so many objects.

Frowning at the noise, Aleasha leaned back from the table to stare into the kitchen, only to witness an odd sight. Tomoe was half standing, half hunched over, a pan in one hand and a pot in the other, while his face held the most quizzical look as he stared in what appeared to be awe at the several pieces of cook ware that lay scattered on the floor. With a raised eye brow she questioned him, "Umm…Are you sure you're feeling okay?"

The quizzical look vanished as his normal bland expression took over and he stood, staring at his hands as though they'd offended him. What just happened? His arms trembled with exertion and his muscles burned. And then he noticed something. He'd moved. His position was at least two steps from where he'd been and yet he couldn't recall moving at all. At least…he didn't _see_ himself move. _What was happening to his body?_ His mouth thinned into a grimace of sorts, _and more importantly;_ _what happened yesterday?_

"Tomo-chan?" she called to him with a worried look on her face, he hadn't responded and he seemed out of it.

He blinked at his nickname, pausing to take in his situation once more before kneeling to pick up the scattered cook ware, "I'm fine." Gathering the pieces aside from the frying pan he'd been reaching for to begin with, he placed them all neatly back in the cupboard. Reaching into the fridge and then into another cupboard for his ingredients he began his prep, all the while pondering the recent events.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Breakfast, was in interesting affair, with all three of them sitting and eating in awkward silence. That is until Tsume interrupted loudly, while slamming his bowl of rice onto the table "Why the fuck does my side, my back, _and _my chest hurt!?" he scowled to himself and began to rub the aforementioned areas.

Mother and son shared a look at this, and then paused in confusion. Both knew the other had done something to attribute to Tsume's pain, but neither spoke on it, instead they slowly looked away from each other as though completely unaware of his predicament.

After breakfast, Tomoe had quickly ascended the stairs to take a shower and change in to a clean uniform, as it was he was still wearing the uniform from yesterday and its many wrinkles only added to his disheveled appearance. Fortunately for him he was at his own home and could easily access his clothes, however for Tsume that was not so, he'd be forced to wear the same uniform over.

**XXXXXXXXXXXX**

She'd been staring at him rather intensely for a while now and he was beginning to get annoyed by it, "Why the fuck are you staring at me?!"

Her gaze did not waver, rather it seemed to intensify as she narrowed her eyes in thought, so when she finally did speak, "Take off your clothes" it was quite a surprise.

He blinked and stared, shocked by her statement, "Wh-what?"

Aleasha stared at him nonchalantly, "Take off your clothes"

He stared at her in disbelief, "Why?" his voice cracking as it had recently gone dry.

She sighed, rolling her eyes as stood and began walking over to him, "I said" she bent over and began unfastening his belt with deft fingers, "Take off your clothes." She spoke loudly as she'd nearly finished with his pant buttons.

It was here that Tsume was able to recover from his shock and quickly drug himself backwards out of reach of her hands, "What the hell are you doing, woman!?" his face reddening in what appeared to be a blush of sorts. "What are you trying to do to me?!"

She paused and stared at him in bewilderment, but slowly a smile began to spread on her face and then she laughed. And continued to do so before crouching over him, "Tsume-kun." He stared at her with rapt attention, "There's no way in hell that I'd be interested in a rude, brash, arrogant male. And even if I was, they damn sure wouldn't be a teenage boy. So please don't make such terrible accusations." Her face took a bland expression as she stared at the boy as if he were stupid.

He sputtered, "Th-then what the hell are you doing?!" his eyes still wary of presence.

She sighed and looked away, "I figured it was the least I could do. After all I drug you here without thinking of what you'd have to wear in the morning. I should've just taken you home, but I didn't. And now here you are without a change of clothes. So I figured I'd iron your clothes for you, seeing as there isn't time to wash them properly."

The blush immediately left his face, "oh. Right." _So_, he thought, _I've just made a fool of myself for no apparent reason._

"Yes, right." She looked back down to his pants, "Now. Gimme!" she grabbed the bottom of his pants and snatched them completely off.

He yelped at the intrusion, "O-Oi!"

"Oh please." She rolled her eyes as she turned away from him, "You in your boxes is of no concern to me, it's nothing I haven't already seen." She began shaking some of the wrinkles from his pants, "and hurry up and take off the rest of them. You've only 20 minutes before you have to leave, so I'd suggest you get cleaned up."

He stared at her as she walked into her room to obtain the ironing board. _This was the reason why he couldn't stand her. She was just so…so…annoying._

**XXXXXXXXXXX**

The walk to school had been uneventful for the most part, but then just as Tomoe began to relax, Tsume had taken a sudden lead of several feet in front of him. Narrowing his eyes, he opened his mouth to insult him, when he paused. As he stared at Tsume, a shape had begun to overlap him. It soon became more defined. Had he not known better, he would have thought it still Tsume he looked at, but there were just as many differences as there were similarities. The white clothes, Tsume never wore white if he could avoid it, the blue hair, obviously Tsume did not have blue hair. Even the figure's walk was similar to Tsume's. His eyes traveled lower and he flinched as he came upon a sudden opening in the figure's torso. It was a hole, a smooth perfectly rounded hole and next to it in roman lettering the number 6. _What the hell?_

The figure paused in its movements and turned to look back at him, he frowned, even the face was the same, well...all the parts of it he could see any way. The right lower half of his face was obscured by a bone white structure fashioned to resemble a jaw and a set of sharp teeth. He stared as the figure spoke to him; the narrowed blue eyes not unlike Tsume's hazel grey, although there appeared to be a turquoise tint covering his eyelids. _Eye shadow?_ He stared as he was reminded of Tsume's okama moment.

_oi…_

_Oi…_

"OI!" he blinked as he snapped back into focus. Tsume was glaring at him rather impatiently.

"What?" he asked looking away; the figure that had previously overshadowing Tsume had vanished.

Scowling, Tsume asked his question again, "I said do you know what happened yesterday?"

"Yesterday?" he questioned still trying to understand what he'd just seen.

"Yea, yesterday. You know, when we both conked our asses out on the street!?" He spoke harshly, _had the bastard not heard a word he'd said?_

"Hn." He sighed, "No idea." A lie. He had an idea and it concerned a certain grey eyed teacher.

Tsume's scowl deepened, _he knew something, but the asshole wasn't sharing_, "Right." He turned and continued walking to school.

They were in sight of the building when Tomoe spoke again, "Oi. Moron." Tsume growled at him, but gave him his attention none the less.

Looking away, he continued, "Do you have a tattoo on your back? Of the number six?"

"Eh?" Tsume stared at him strangely_, why the hell did he ask that? He wasn't a yakuza, he knew that. And even if he was, why would he get the number six tattooed on him?_ "No. Why the fuck would I?"

He watched as Tomoe's eyes narrowed, "No reason." He picked up his pace then, leaving Tsume to trail behind him. Said boy only stared at him weirdly, "Tch!" _Fuckever…I knew he was a freak anyway…_

**XXXXXXXXXXXXX**

If Tomoe had thought that his brief stint of seeing things was over, he was dead wrong. From the moment she'd walked in, he couldn't look away. Overlapping Inoue-san was a translucent figure much like the one that had been present with Tsume earlier, but quite different. Unlike the one previously this one was definitely Inoue Orihime, dressed in a white jacket hugged so tightly to her torso it could have been painted on and white loose flowing pants. Her countenance was slow, almost graceful like, but as she turned to face the class, he immediately noticed the one difference; her eyes. The Inoue Orihime that he knew now did not have eyes like that, eyes that expressed such sadness and despair. But this was a different Inoue-san than the one teaching his class; for the one teaching his class was light, bubbly, and seemingly care free, however the shadow that was cast over her form looked as though she carried the weight of the world on her shoulders.

He didn't fully comprehend the meaning of all this, but he knew one thing. Tsume, himself, and Inoue-san were interconnected, as to how; he wasn't quite sure yet, but he'd find out soon enough. For now he was contented to watch Inoue-san teach while her shadow mirrored her movements.

"Kanzenkiba-kun" Orihime called to him. She'd been about to remind him of their meeting afterschool when she paused. "Kanzenkiba-kun?" his eyes were wide in shock and he stared at her as though seeing something else entirely.

He'd been watching her the entire time and everything she did her shadow copied it exactly, so when she called out to him, he was floored. Inoue Orihime, the teacher was staring at him expectantly, but her shadow looked close to tears as she reached out to him in what he knew was a pointless effort, yet still he had to stomp down the urge to return the gesture. He'd seen her do that before, the familiarity of the situation had struck him hard.

"Kanzenkiba-kun?" she called to him worriedly leaning over his desk.

He flinched back suddenly at her intrusion; forcing himself to stare at his teacher and only at his teacher, he spoke "What is it?"

She frowned at him, "Are you feeling well? Do you need to go to the nurse?"

Inwardly he scowled, _why did people keep asking him that? Did he look sickly?_ "I am fine. What did you want?" he asked rather snappishly.

She blinked, leaning back, "Oh! Umm…ano…" _what did she want again?_ She couldn't really remember, what with him staring at her so intently, "ummm…Oh! Right! I was just reminding you that we have to continue our conference this afternoon." She smiled brightly at her accomplishment.

"Of course." His eyes narrowing in thought, afterschool would be perfect for him to retrieve information from her.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXX**

"So…" she stared up at him from behind her desk, "Have you thought about participating more?" At his blank stare she continued nervously, "umm…well you could join a club or something?"

He spoke then, "I am already in a club. I'm the captain of the Judo club."

She blinked and looked down at his file. That _was_ true. Frowning, she looked up at him, determined to push her issue until she won, "Yes, that is true. However being captain of the Judo club isn't exactly social." She held onto her focus, _she wouldn't let him push her around with his cold looks! No sir'ee! It would take more than that for to give up! Not even a gang of yakuza could stop her! Or even a mob of extraterrestrials! Or…or…Scuba-diving tuna with bazookas! Yea!...wait…fish don't need to scuba dive…and…and….could bazookas even work underwater?_

Tomoe's eyes narrowed and his mouth thinned into a grim line. _No, being the captain of the Judo club did not require him to be socially adept, which was exactly why he took on the role._ He frowned then, as he noticed the faraway look in her eyes. It was the look that crossed her face only when she was thinking of something utterly ridiculous. He scowled, "Then what would you suggest, Inoue-san?" he spoke lowly but his voice was sharp and penetrated the fog of her imagination like a knife's edge.

She flinched and stared up into his cool gaze, "Uhh…umm…" she began to shuffle the items on her desk around as she tried to quickly remember her lost train of thought, "oh! Umm…well, perhaps maybe you should take up another activity. One with more interaction with your peers…" she trailed off in a hopeful silence.

He studied her with his icy gaze, "And exactly what other options do I have to choose from?"

She blinked, "ah…ano…well there's the garden club….the feung shui club and…uhh…ummm…the press club!" she finished excitedly; glad to have named another club.

He continued to stare at her harshly, his gaze unwavering and inwardly she began to cringe, "Do you have a list?"

"A what?" he had confused her with his response; she hadn't been expecting him to respond in such a manner.

"A list. "He continued, "A list of all the available clubs. Perhaps if I saw a list of clubs, I might find one I like and be persuaded to join it."

She stared and just when he thought she might have drifted off again, a megawatt smile burst into life on her face, "Hai!" she stood and began shuffling through her desk drawer, no doubt in search of the list. "Mitsukete!" she cried holding what appeared to be a small stack of five or so pages stapled together, "Here you go!" she held out the packet with both hands.

He slowly slid his eyes from her face to the offered stack of papers. And just as he reached out to take them, the roar sounded. His eyes narrowed as he gazed at the stack, then at his teacher, her eyes were wide in shock. Unknown to them they were both thinking the same thing. _Again? So soon…_

That was where Orihime's thoughts deviated. You see the number of hollows had dwindled without Aizen instigating them and everyone limiting their expulsion of reiatsu. So to have a new hollow only a day later in the same area was nearly unheard of. She quickly sat the packet down and began gathering her things. This was something she'd been doing for a while now, after all Ichigo couldn't do everything, he had a job and a family to help support. So she did what she could to help, much like the others did. They'd learned to take matters into their own hands for the most part; they couldn't rely on Soul Society for every little thing. "Gomen!" she bowed hastily, "I have something to take care of again, I'll get back to you later about the clubs!" she darted past him, but was quickly halted by a hand darting out to grab her arm.

To say she was surprised was an understatement. She'd quickly found herself pinned between her desk and her student, whose body was mere inches from her own. He stared down at her with a curious and accusing gaze, "…This is the second time."

"Wh…" she still in shock from his actions, "What do you mean?"

He moved closer to study her reaction when he spoke, "That would've been the second time that you'd have run off at the creature's call…why?"

Her eyes widened and a sort of understanding crept into them, "you…You can hear the hollows?"

"Hollows?" He paused staring into grey eyes that swam with conflicting emotions. _Is that what they were called? Yes,_ he decided they were. The name was not foreign to his tongue as it should be; instead as he rolled the name around in his mind it felt familiar._ But what were they?_

"You don't know…what a hollow is?" she looked up at him with a mixture of pity and understanding. _He could hear them, but he'd never seen them. She thought him lucky; no one should ever have to come face to face with those beings._

Before she could ask him more, he spoke again, "You are not a hollow. That I do know. So what are you, Inoue-sensei?" he leaned inward until there was barely any space between the two. He dared her not to answer.

"I-I…"she stumbled over her words, but before she could speak again, the hollow bellowed once more. With that to strengthen her resolve she shoved him back and bolted past him, "I'm sorry, I have to go!"

This time, he didn't stop her. He just stood there and let her go. But that was fine. He'd learned something after all. The sounds he'd heard for five years were the cries of creatures called Hollows. He'd think on this new information. He was satisfied for now, but then again tomorrow was another day. He could always get more out of her then. _Yes,_ he nodded to himself, _tomorrow._ Placing his headphones over his ears and adjusting his messenger bag he turned and headed out of the staff room and toward the school gates. Pausing momentarily however, when he felt a slight ripple of…_power?_ It had come from the west side of the city, not too far from here. _Is that where Inoue-san had gone?_ He shook the thought away, _tomorrow…he'd find out more tomorrow._

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

He let out a ragged sigh and forced his body to relax under the spray of hot water. Holding back a shudder, he felt his tense muscles start to loosen. Normally he'd have left the gym by now, but ever since this morning he'd been feeling like he had so much extra energy to burn. And when he stepped into ring, it was easy. _Too easy_. He'd always been good at knocking his opponents flat on their asses to begin with, but today… He wasn't sure where the added strength had come from, but he could only stare, entranced when the guy was carted away in an ambulance. He hadn't heard them completely, but what he did hear sounded pretty bad; something about a concussion and what appeared to be a mass amount of internal bleeding. He'd only 3-pieced him. Just three hits and the guy was hospitalized in the ICU, _what the hell?_

Tsume let his head rest on the shower wall in despair, _what was going on with him?_ After the match he'd been so worked up and irritated, something a good spar always fixed. However, having witnessed the scene before, none of the others wanted to spar with him, they were afraid. So he spent the last 3 hours trying to tire himself out of the mood, but all it did was exhaust him physically and yet despite the exhaustion he still felt like he had so much energy. Staring down at himself, he studied his muscles, he hadn't had any trouble building them, it was as if they came naturally to him. The strange thing, although, was that even despite the fact that they felt as if they were on fire from an abusive workout he could still feel their raw strength flowing through him. It terrified him. He no longer knew what he was capable of.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

It was late when he returned to the Orphanage, around 10, an hour over his curfew. He knew the bitch would be waiting for him, but he couldn't bring himself to care. He was too busy trying to figure out what had happened to him and how it had happened. So when he saw her standing between the entry way of the orphanage and the foyer he wasn't surprised. He was however surprised when her hand met the side of his face, _hard._ Turning his head back forward, he stared at her, immensely aware of the stinging in his cheek. See, he'd also noticed something else; ever since around noon this morning he'd been getting more agitated, aggressive-like, it was becoming harder for him to remain passive aggressive.

His eyes hardened as he glared at her, "_Bitch._ The _fuck_ was that for?!"

Chisaki flinched at his tone, but she stood her ground, "One, your late! Two, I got a call from your manager! About the man that you hospitalized! You animal! I can barely afford to pay the bills around here and then you go and send a man to the hospital! Do you know the repercussions of your acts!? We'll be on the streets if he sues! And-" she didn't get much further in her rant as Tsume cut her off.

"Shut the Fuck up!" he snarled and watched in a sort of satisfaction as she stepped back in unease. _Good_, he thought, _she should be uneasy_. He moved towards her, his fist clenched in rage. _She was so stupid and ignorant, he couldn't stand her; he absolutely loathed the woman. She didn't understand a thing about what he did; there would be no hospital bills. Each opponent entered the ring knowing the risks, if they man couldn't deal and got his ass kicked it was his own fault._

Trembling like a leaf, Chisaki could only stare in horror, "You hoodlum! What are you going to do? Hit me?" her words were braver than she. In reality she was absolutely scared shitless of the boy; the fact that a sixteen year old had sent an experienced adult boxer to the hospital in such a state terrified her. She couldn't have him in her home. "Go ahead!" she cried, "Prove me right!" she'd noticed his fist tightening and as he raised it, she felt her heart stop in her chest.

"I said Shut the Fuck up!" and with a straight jab, his forearm was plunged deeply into the wall, a mere inch from her head.

Shaking terribly, she slid to the floor, eyes open but seeing nothing, for her mind could only replay the last few moments; his enraged snarl as he struck at her. When she finally found her voice, she could only say one thing, "Get out."

He turned his smoldering gaze to her, "Tch!"

Steeling her voice, she looked up at him, "Get out! Leave! Go!"

He snorted, "Not a problem." He turned towards the stairwell, "Not a _fucking_ problem." He'd grab his shit and go, he didn't have a reason to stay here anymore. Besides it wasn't like it was surprising, he knew he'd have to move out soon anyway, this just made it all the more memorable. Storming up the stairs, he could hear the movement in the rooms; their yelling had woken everyone up. Slamming the door to his room open, he grabbed his gym bag, tossed it on the bed and immediately began piling clothes in it. He didn't have anything else of importance.

He'd been about to walk down the stairs when he heard their door open, clenching his jaw, he refused to look at them, "Tsume-kun?" the two girls echoed each other as they rubbed the sleep from their eyes and frowned in confusion. They'd heard the yelling, but were still won't to believe what was happening. And yet when they saw his bag packed and his room ransacked they knew it was true. Fear in their eyes, they clung to him, "No! You can't go!!!"

Growling lowly to himself, he bent and carefully pried their hands from his clothing before setting them in their doorway. They cried as though they were truly wounded, the innocence of children who'd never known real pain, mourning the loss of their playmate. When he left out the door not even sparing the caretaker a second glance, they turned their attention to said woman, "We hate you!!!" they cried before running into their room and slamming the door. But Chisaki didn't care, because for the first time in five years she finally felt safe within her own home.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

He'd just gotten around the corner when his façade faded. He'd been ignoring it for the last ten minutes, but now that he was by himself, alone with his thoughts, they came back to him unbidden. _He'd enjoyed it_, for heaven's sake he'd _enjoyed_ tormenting her, he'd been able to hear the sound of her heart slamming against her ribs like a frightened bird in a cage. He'd _felt_ her fear and he liked it. He was beginning to scare himself. This was not suppose to be happening to him, _so why the fuck was it?_

He stood there for awhile, just listening to himself breath. A half hour had passed before he finally started moving again, he didn't really think about where he was going, he was just moving. So when he found himself standing in front of Tomoe's house 15 minutes later he scowled. He did not want to come here, having to depend on them was not a situation he wanted to be in, but as a chilly wind blew down the street he realized with a shiver, that he didn't have much of a choice. Opening the gate, he cautiously made his way to the door, his hand raised to knock. But he paused; did he really want to do this? After another moment of thought he realized, _Yes_, he did, it was either _this_ or the _street_. With a sigh he knocked on the door.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

In a rare moment of family time, both mother and son sat in the living room watching the television, although it was mainly his mother watching the TV as Tomoe was busy doing his homework. So when the knock came, no one wanted to get it, but knowing his mother's lazy and procrastinating ways he stood. He made his way to the front and gripped the door knob, "Who is it?"

"It's me, Tsume." His voice muffled through the door.

Tomoe frowned, _what was the buffoon doing here so late?_ He opened the door, a quizzical look in his eyes. But as he took in the duffle bag at his side and the slightly shivering Tsume, he came to a conclusion. He quickly shut the door.

From the other side, Tsume stared in shock. He'd shut the door in his face. "…o…OI!!!" he began to bang on the door.

In the living room, Aleasha frowned when Tomoe returned alone and with nothing to say. "Who was it?"

"No one of importance." He stated before returning to his work.

But as the banging continued she began to become annoyed, she couldn't hear her show like she wanted to. With a huff she stood and put on her slippers. "You don't want to answer that." Her son told her as he continued to stare at his homework.

She rolled her eyes, "yea well, I can't hear my show." Upon reaching the foyer she snatched open the door and blinked in surprise, "Oh. It's you, Tsume-kun. What are doing here this time…of night?" she trailed off as she stared at his bag, returning her gaze to his face, she continued, "hmm…I see…Well then…Oyasumi." And then she too slammed the door in his face.

"Hey!!!" he protested loudly, "Fucking Bitch! Open the goddamned door!!! "His fist pounded on the door angrily.

Back in the living room, Aleasha was making herself comfortable under the heated blanket once more, "You were right."

Not even glancing from his work he spoke, "I told you so."

She nodded, "You did." A short silence passed as the house seemed to echo with Tsume's yelling, "You think the neighbors will wake up?"

He snorted, "They've probably already called the police."

"Ahh…how true…" she trailed off with a frown, she still couldn't hear the show like she wanted to, so reaching for the remote she turned the volume up, drowning out sounds of Tsume's angry protests, "Much better."

Tomoe rolled his eyes.

* * *

**A/N:** Hahahaha!!!! I've practically doubled my chapter length here!!! I'm really proud of myself right now, lol. Anywho, yes I know those two are mean, haha. _**Plus!**_ To anyone who can figure out what Tomoe/Ulquiorra did earlier in the kitchen will get a bonus SPOILER. Anyway next chapter will feature more OrihimeXUlquiorra/Tomoe interaction as well as some new folks…to give you a hint, the title for the next chapter is: _**Pirates & Gunslingers. **_Also I updated rather quickly! And you people didn't even do 20 reviews! So I'd like 25, for this chapter, before I update again. But yea don't forget to vote for which Arrancar you wanna see:

Ggio Vega

Wonderweiss

Aaroniero

Or Zommari

-Ja ne!,

BlackFirelight

**P.S.**

_Please, please review…_

**Japanese 101**

_**Mitsukete-**_ basically it's a phrase that means; "Found it!" or "Found you!"

_**Gomen-**_ sorry

_**Sensei-**_ teacher

_**Oyasumi-**_ informal version of Oyasumi Nasai-which means Good Night, so Oyasumi basically means "Night!"


	7. Chapter 6 Pirates & Gunslingers

**A/N:** H'yello…….sooo…yea…it's been awhile…and I have many excuses, each of them true too. However, seeing as you've all waited long enough, I shan't bore you with such things until the end of this chapter…so…Onward! _**NOTE:**_ If you thought the last chapter was long, you should know I plan to once again increase the length!!!! (Hmmm …sounds like an ad for male enhancement…haha lol) Also, please be aware that i am now currently conducting an overhaul on this fic, meaning that i'm going to be going back and revising (flushing out with more detail and depth) all the existing chapters, which means my newer chapters may be even longer from all the added content, i hope you'll enjoy them. Please feel free to go back and reread! The revised prologue is up! (it should be less confusing now) Tell me what you think!!!

**_BTW:_** The results of the **Arrancar poll** so far are as followed: (note: these are a combination of verbal, review, and pm votes)

Ggio Vega is in the lead with- 5 votes

Wonderweiss is following close behind with- 4 votes

Aaroniero- 2 votes

& lastly we have

Zommari with- 2 votes as well. The next chapter is your last time to vote, so if you have a preference, you should speak up!

**Disclaimer:** *sigh*….Must I continue to say this……*sighs again*…The privilege of owning Bleach belongs to Tite Kubo, not me.

* * *

**The Cycle of Souls**

_**Pirates & Gunslingers**_

She awoke in a hospital room. She was still half sleep when a nurse told her she'd been found just a block from her home, passed out with a fever in front of a convenience store. Some good-Samaritan made a phone call and next thing you know she was waking up in a cold room with a needle stuck in her arm. She groaned as the bright light penetrated what remained of her sleep. A grimace stretched over her face as she moved her sore arm. Reaching across her stiff body she peeled back the tape before ripping the IV out and snatching the finger pulse monitor off. She'd only been in a hospital once before, when the Hyoujin family had first taken her in. She didn't like it then and she didn't like it now.

Placing her feet on the cold floor, she stood and stumbled over as her vision swam. There was a reason she didn't like hospitals or rather it wasn't the hospitals, but being a hospital patient. The impersonal white-washed walls had a strange sense of familiarity to her, so it wasn't the bland sterility of the place that bothered her. No, it was the feeling of helplessness that came with being a patient, left at the whims of people you didn't know or trust; it was not a situation she liked. So when the nurse barged in-more than likely alerted by the flat-lining heart monitor- she'd already found her clothes and was in the middle of dressing herself on still unbalanced legs.

The nurse blinked, surprised at the moment, "Ah…Hyoujin-san, please return to bed, the doctors would like to run a few tests before we can let you leave."

But still, Fukami did not stop, she didn't even pause. "Hyoujin-san," she reached out to stop her busy limbs.

It was a reflex, but a surprising one nonetheless. She'd slapped the nurse's reaching hand away sharply, hard enough for a slight thwack to echo in the room. Her stare's cool gaze cut deep into the unsuspecting woman. The nurse flinched back in shock, clutching her hand to her chest as though it had been wounded. Fukami widened her eyes in realization at her actions. Panic set in as she returned to getting dressed and grabbing her things.

The nurse turned on her heel quickly and returned to the front desk, "Please inform Kimishiro-sensei that Hyoujin-san is trying to leave.

* * *

She'd gotten her clothes on and had just grabbed her purse when she stepped out the door intending on leaving the room; she found her way was blocked. Four doctors stood around her. Frowning in confusion, she looked around, her expression pleading with them to move.

"Hyoujin-san, you can't leave yet. There are still tests to be done." The man on her center left spoke.

"Yes, you see it would seem you suffer from a very rare condition." The doctor on her far right continued.

"Very rare indeed!" The man next to him spoke up, "There's less than 20 people in the world with it. You are the first patient in Japan-that we're aware of- to have this condition."

"What they're were trying to say is that this is an opportunity that can not be passed up," it was a woman on her far left who spoke this time, "you will of course be compensated for your time."

She was shocked; _they wanted her to be some sort of test subject because she had a rare condition?_ She frowned and tried to move past them, but they halted her with their hands. "Come now, you'll get paid good money for this."

"It won't be so bad, Fukami-chan." The woman spoke again, "Can I call you that? We can be friends."

_What was going on here? She didn't even know the woman and she was addressing her so closely._ She felt her lungs beginning to contract as her breaths shortened. They were grabbing at her and her clothing, urging her to stay, attempting to push her back into the room. Near panting now, she struggled against them, her breathing so loud she could hear the short choppy breaths leaving her lips. "ya…" she trembled as she snatched herself from their embrace, "Yamete!!!" her frame crashing onto the floor along with one of the doctors, sending the papers that'd been in his grasp scattering along the floor.

Still shaking, she stared with wide eyes at the empty hallway in front of her, pursing her lips; she forced herself up and sprinted down the hall. When she got to the street she didn't stop, instead she ran faster. What she was running from now, she didn't know.

The doctors reactions were somewhat milder, looks of surprise and disappointment, the man on the floor frowning as he retrieved his paper work on her test results, "I thought she was a mute." Sighing to himself as he stood up and began reorganizing the results. Glancing back at the papers, his expression dimmed, as the chance to study 'Utsuro Shitai' in person had been dismissed. 'Utsuro Shitai', more commonly known as "Hollow Body".

"Hollow Body" discovered by Brazilian scientist, Magnus Soldios, has been found in less than 10 people worldwide, but estimations say the number could be in the 20's. It is called such because when given C.A.T. scans, MRIs, and X-rays, no organs could be found, not even the brain. It was almost as though they existed as a shell of flesh and bone with nothing inside, but that idea had long been thought myth as that was just not possible, after all, these people still had heart beats and normally functioning bodies. The problem was, no one could prove or disprove any theories on "Hollow Body", because of one great common happening-none of the patients would allow further testing. To many doctors, it is a mystery as to why they wouldn't.

* * *

When he awoke, it was not to the lovely smell of a caffeinated beverage, but a strange pungent odor. When he opened his eyes, it was not to the sight of his large comfortable bedroom and his huge fluffy bed. Nope. When Alain Raulf awoke he was lying face down on the pavement of a back alley. His eyes squinted together as he tried to recall how he'd ended up in such a position. Unfortunately for him, that didn't seem to be happening. He grimaced as he moved around and became aware of a sticky wetness beneath him. _Was he bleeding?_ He wondered. But, as he sat up and the pungent odor became stronger he realized that he wasn't. Staring at the sticky, slimy, yellowish substance that stuck to his torso, he frowned. _What_- He didn't have to finish his thought as he spied a smashed egg carton on the ground beneath him. He'd fallen on his breakfast, _how lovely_. And to make matters worse, they seemed to have spoiled. Grunting, he stood, a look of disgust on his face as he could clearly feel the slime through his shirt onto the skin of his torso. Sighing in resignation, he looked down to his daughter.

"Rochelle."

She didn't stir. Then again, he hadn't really expected her to; she was nearly as hard to wake as he. "Rochelle, Get up."

"Mmph…" She curled into herself in attempt to ignore him.

"Rochelle." He called her name louder this time, "You need to wake up."

"Yada." She stated firmly, under his blank stare. It figures she would pick up the slang first.

"Get up!" he was sorely tempted to just leave her, but then he wouldn't be a good parent, would he?

"No." she huddled in on herself, still unaware of where she was sleeping.

"Fine. If a dog comes by to take a piss, I won't stop him."

"What?" She opened her eyes to stare at him weirdly. She blinked, she wasn't on the couch where she normally fell asleep, nor was she in her rarely slept in bed. But, as she sat up and felt the scrape of asphalt on her skin, she frowned. "Why the hell am I on the ground?"

"Because you fainted." He stated smugly.

She scoffed at him, "Wipe that look of your face, before I do it for you. You fainted too!"

"I did not." He yawned out.

She gave him a blank stare, "Then why is there egg all over your shirt!?" she pointed to the smashed carton of eggs.

He followed her fingers direction and slowly returned his gaze back to her and with a casual shrug he ignored her accusation. "Come on. We've over stayed our welcome, we need to go home."

She rolled her eyes at her father's attempt to act cool.

Alain & Rochelle Raulf. Both were found wandering on the border of Spain and France. They'd both assumed themselves to be related, as they both had the same dark blue eyes and seemed to have a deep bond between them even though they couldn't remember why. Due to their age differences it had been assumed by all that they were father and daughter. And the two of them had accepted this as fact. After being fed and given an identity, they'd traveled to Germany, where it was revealed that the two were rather knowledgeable about firearms. Soon after with a good amount of luck and newly made friends, the two found themselves opening a Gun shop. They'd done extremely well for themselves. However, despite how well everything was going, they still felt as though something were missing. That was how they'd ended up in Japan. It was as though something had called them here, they were originally moving to Tokyo, but after accidentally spotting the name Karakura town on a map, they just knew that they should go there. _Still don't know why here though_, Alain yawned again and with another sigh, he realized he was still rather tired.

Unlocking the door to their re-modeled two-story home, he took off his shoes and immediately headed towards the bathroom, positive that Rochelle would lock the door behind herself. Pausing in the hallway, he turned his head to stare at an old Flintlock pistol that hung on the wall behind a pane of glass. He didn't particularly know why he liked to look at it so much, there were far better guns nowadays, but its old fashioned design vaguely reminded him of something, so he kept it. For sentimental value, he guessed.

"Move it, old man." Rochelle called from behind him.

He sighed, looking down at the carpet, before continuing to the bathroom. Rochelle stared after him, before raising her gaze to the old firearm, a distant look in her eyes.

* * *

The clank of spoons in near empty bowls and the short clatter of chopsticks being placed aside were the only things heard in the living room. That is until someone spoke.

"Ne, Tsume-kun." Tomoe watched as his mother spoke in a sickeningly sweet tone. After some brief hassling with the police they finally allowed Tsume into their home, after all it was simpler to put him up than having to go bail him out of jail later. That's what his mother said anyway, he personally didn't see why they'd have to bail him out in the first place, he'd probably fit right in.

"Ngh." Tsume grunted as he was still shoveling rice into his mouth.

"Well, I just thought I should let you know that seeing as you are now living here for an indefinite amount of time, you will be expected to follow the household rules and take turns doing the chores." She spoke with a matter of fact tone.

"Enh?" he paused in his eating staring at her with a look akin to the verbal expression 'what the fuck?'

He then noticed Tomoe rising up from his seat at the table, walking to the door. Before he could ponder on it, however, Aleasha's hand came clapping down on his shoulder with a friendly shake, "So I just wanna say in advance, 'Thanks' for doing the dishes, Tsume-kun." Then she too stood; only she headed for her room. Frowning, he began the motion of standing up, before he walked into the kitchen, only for his frown to deepen; not only were this morning's dishes and pans in the sink, but so were last nights. His eye brow twitched, "OI!!!" he yelled. There was, however, no response, but the shutting of doors, Tomoe had left for school and Aleasha had gone back into her room, presumably to go back to sleep. "What the hell?!" he cried to no one in particular.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

He was halfway to school when Tsume finally caught up with him. And judging from his rumpled clothing he'd had to run to catch up. "Son of a bitch." Tsume swung at him, only for Tomoe to lean back and side step him. Making a noise of agreement, Tomoe spoke "I'm quite aware of that fact."

Glaring at him, Tsume straightened his uniform and began walking next to him. Only a minute or two had passed before the slow pace got to him "Can't you walk any faster?"

He snorted, "Of course I can, stupid. There is however no reason I should." His calm voice only emphasizing the insult. Tsume rolled his eyes at the typical response. _Really, what was the point in him even asking?_

It was, _however_, surprising when Tomoe spoke again, mere moments later, "Have you ever heard of a hollow?"

Tsume blinked at the odd English word, "A what?"

His expression thinned into a grim line, "Never mind." He began to pick up his pace.

Tsume stared after him, a confused look on his face. "No, seriously what is it?" he wanted to know what bullshit the bastard was speaking now. He frowned, however, when Tomoe just sighed and said, "Bestu ni."

* * *

Ever since yesterday, he'd decided to pay close attention to Inoue Orihime. And now he was beginning to regret it as she bent over to retrieve papers she dropped for what seem to be the fifth time in the last hour. _Was this the reason why she had such a large following of fan-boys?_ If so, he wasn't sure how he felt about it, he was only sure of the fact that perhaps a skirt with such a high slit probably shouldn't have been worn in a class room full of teenage boys; himself excluded. He had much better control than they did. Although, he couldn't help but wonder to himself with a cock of his head, _was that a garter belt?_ He blinked, straightening his posture, _what the hell was he doing? _He looked around the room, and with a look of disgust he realized, he was doing the exact same thing that every other teenage boy had been doing: checking out Inoue-san's body. Inwardly, he berated himself. He did not get over excited about the opposite sex. He did not stare after his young teacher-who was only 4 years older than him- like some sort of hormonal teenager. He simply did not; he was above all these things.

And yet by the end of the day, he'd come to realize that if he wanted to get close enough to know what she was hiding he would be forced to notice every enticing thing about her. Including the way her teeth teased at her bottom lip whenever she was nervous, or how whenever she agreed enthusiastically or clasped her hands together, her bust would only become emphasized, or perhaps the way it seemed as though her skirt was tailor made to fit snuggly over her hips. He stared, his fist beginning to clench painfully as he sought to punish himself. _She wasn't even here!_ There was a middle-aged, balding man teaching the class and he was still thinking about her! This was not good. Things were not going according to his plan, but he was unsure of who was to blame. Him; with his disobeying eyes, that seem to zero in on exactly what he wanted to ignore or her; with a body too young and flush for a life of teaching horny teenage boys-excluding himself of course.

He'd just gotten his shoes on when Tsume approached him. "Nani?" he asked while tying his shoes.

He stood there, looking awkward in his hesitation as it was something that Tsume simply did not do, "Do I need a key or something?"

He stared at him for a moment, "Iie. Not now, but if the door _is_ locked just knock, she won't be taking a nap until 7." He continued with his other shoe.

Tsume paused, a frown on his face, "Wait. So you're not going home?"

He shook his head, "Not yet. I have something to do. I'll be home shortly."

The sixteen year old stared at him suspiciously, "Right. Well, Ja ne." shouldering his books, Tsume left the school.

He stared after him, watching him leave the premises, before turning in the direction of the staff office.

When he found her she was still seated at her desk, reviewing paperwork. It made sense, if you thought about how often she seemed to run off before it was finished. He was going to ask her right then and there, but unfortunately for him, another teacher was still present. So, he figured he'd wait until she left the room. However, it didn't seem like that would be happening any time soon, as the other teacher kept flirting with her. And despite her many attempts to thwart the middle aged teacher, he was rather persistent and therefore he was proving to be a rather large distraction for her. At this rate he'd be here all night. He sighed; it would seem he'd have to go in.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

"Inoue-san." He called from the doorway; his form a shadowed silhouette as the hallway's light penetrated the diming office.

Both teachers looked up, the male with a look up dissatisfaction and Inoue with a grateful look. "Ah…yes, Kanzenkiba-kun?"

He opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by the other teacher, "You should address your teacher with more respect, boy."

He cocked his head at him, studying him, the man was taller than him by an inch or two and was larger by far, but he was also older and weaker. He made his way to the desk. "I will address Inoue-san however I wish. If she has a problem with it, she has yet to complain."

The teacher, Sataru Tetsuke,-he learned from the name plate on his desk-stood, a look of anger on his face. Orihime quickly recognizing the escalating situation, tugged on the other teacher's sleeve, "Sataru-san! It's okay, really!"

He frowned down at her and slowly a smile found its way on his face, "Call me Tetsuke." Sitting back down, he patted her hand, "You're far too lenient on your students, Inoue-chan." Tomoe watched passively, but inwardly he fought to keep a look of disgust off his face.

With a false smile, she pulled her hand away, "Perhaps, but I really do have to…umm…help Kanzenkiba-kun out with…uhh…" she floundered for an idea.

"Clubs." Came her unlikely savior's voice.

She blinked, "clubs?" she asked, confused.

"Ah. You have to help me decide on a club, remember?" he stated blandly while staring at her like she was stupid.

"Oh! Right! Haha!" she laughed, knocking on her head with her fist, "Silly me, I forgot!" she then stood up, "Be right back." She nearly ran out the room, dragging Tomoe with her. She didn't stop until she was outside the building.

Tomoe snatched his arm from her grasp, startling her. "Oh. Right, I'm sorry." She smiled apologetically looking down at the ground; she blinked as a black object was thrust into her view. She stared and smiled again, it was her purse. "Thank you!" Now, she wouldn't have to go back upstairs, "Thanks for that, really."

"Are you stupid?"

She flinched at his harsh, biting tone, "What?" She stared at him wide eyed, before biting her lip. _What was this feeling?_ Every time she was in his presence she felt it. He was familiar to her, very. She'd noticed it on the first day, the way he carried himself, his hands stuffed into his pockets and the way he spoke to her as though she were miles beneath him. And his eyes, whenever she stared into them, she felt as though something were wrong, the color perhaps? _But then what color should they be?_

"You can't honestly believe I saved you just for your gratitude. You know what I want from you." He stated with a blunt tone.

She stared for a moment before an uneasy smile, "Ah, yes, of course. The hollows."

"Well…" he urged calmly.

"Hollows are the souls of the dead." She began, nervously biting her lip under Tomoe's scrutinizing stare. "When a soul leaves its body, it has a broken chain connected to its chest. And when the chain corrodes and falls apart that soul becomes a hollow." Her thumbs were beginning to fiddle as well.

Tomoe stepped closer to her, "And what does a hollow look like?" he narrowed his eyes as his attention was stolen by her teeth nibbling at her lip, "Stop that. It's annoying."

She stopped, her eyes widening at his attention, "Umm…well, normally they look like huge white and black monsters, with these weird masks on….eto….Oh! And they also have these big holes in them!"

His eyes widened, before he forced his reaction away. Normally he would have just written her description off as yet another crazed fantasy of hers, but he recognized this fantasy; the creature from his dreams. Frowning, he stepped closer to her, forcing her to back herself up against the wall, "And how do you know all this?"

She looked down then, "ano…" she began to bite her lip again, inwardly wondering why she was letting her student intimidate her. "I can't tell you."

He narrowed his eyes at the statement, "Look at me." His mouth thinned into a displeased line as she did as he asked, her lip still caught between her teeth, "Why not?"

"I just can't." she chewed her lip nervously as she began to look away again, only to find her chin held in his grasp. Gently, his thumb slid across her lip, freeing it from her teeth, "I told you to stop that." A blush crept upon her face as she realized how close he was.

Barely an inch apart, he could feel her slow breaths sliding across his exposed neck, staring into her amethyst tinted grey eyes. Funny, he'd never noticed that before, but now as he found himself moving closer to her, he couldn't help but notice it. Slowly his eyes slid down to her lips, tinted red from her torture of them. He wasn't quite aware of himself when he leaned his head down.

Her phone began to ring; a happy and chirpy sound singing loudly from her purse. His eyes widened as he moved back staring at the source of the offending noise, _what the hell was he about to do?_ Blushing furiously, Orihime dug through her purse for the offending object. With a quick sigh of relief opened the text and silenced her phone. Quickly remembering her previous predicament, she blushed again and looked around, only to find that he was already rounding the corner of the school gates.

She stared after him, a blush still prominent on her face. _What was she doing? He was going to kiss her, she just knew he was! ….And she was going to kiss him back?! No! NO! BAD ORIHIME!_ She began to frantically pull her hair and slap herself in attempt to punish herself for her thoughts. _Teachers do not kiss their students! Even if they started it! Even if they look REAL familiar! No! Bad Orihime!_

**

* * *

**

It had only been two days since she ran from the hospital and already she was receiving mail from them, begging her to come back for further testing. She scowled throwing the mail across her room, there was no way she was going to go back there, just so they could poke and prod at her. No way in hell. She laid back on her futon and pursed her lips as her stomach growled. She turned her head to the side with a sigh. She was hungry again. Ever since she came home, she'd found herself eating like she was starving. Sitting up again, she wondered if the run from the hospital to her house had really burned so many calories. Sure it was a couple of miles, but to still feel hungry two days later? That was just ridiculous. Getting up she went to the kitchen to search for something to halt her hunger.

To her dismay she found plenty of food, but nothing she wanted. With a sigh, she glanced down at her kitchen floor before looking at her purse that lay innocently on the counter. Grabbing it, she checked her funds. _Well…I suppose I could afford a bowl of noodles_, she thought as her stomach growled, _yea….some ramen would be nice…._

An hour later, she was leaving a ramen stand, politely nodding her head to the cook in place of speaking the phrase 'Gochisousama deshita'. She wasn't even out of sight of the ramen stand when her paranoia flared up. She felt as though someone was watching her. Calmly, she observed her surroundings, while standing on the corner. Waiting a brief moment, she decided that it was just her nerves, but as she crossed the street, she knew better. Someone was following her, she had no real proof of it, but she could feel it; feel them. Frowning, she picked up her pace, but then so did her follower. Soon, she broke out into an all out run, darting through the back streets and darkened alleys. As she ran, her pursuer's presence became more obvious; she could hear the clopping of patent leather shoes and to her horror, she realized he was not alone. The deep gasps of breaths and the loud clattering of shoes making their way further and further away from the business area of Karakura town were not merely her own. Terrified, she couldn't remember where she was and quickly lost her way, relying purely on her preservation instinct to guide her through the maze like streets. She sadly came to the conclusion that her instincts were faulty as she stumbled into a dead end alley; she'd been unable to see the alley's end under the darkness of night.

Her shock at seeing the solid wall left her pale and by the time she'd thought to run, she found herself cornered by her pursuers. Four men in various states of casual dress; a complete black suit, a suit jacket over a white shirt and jeans, a dark blue silk shirt and black slacks, the last one wearing black slacks and a white short-sleeved button down. Her stare went from shock to one of both disbelief and fear. _…yakuza._

* * *

The eleven year old stared in grim distaste at the white and lumpy concoction in the bowl in front of her. "This can't be edible." She stared up at her father, only to balk as she did so, for Alain Raulf was proving that it was in fact edible or that it was at least possible to chew and swallow. She stared in disgust. "I am not eating this." She stated staring him down.

"Hmm?" he stared up at her from his very simple meal, "Why not? It's not bad."

Rochelle's lips twisted into a sneer, "Because it looks like slop. Are you trying to poison me!?"

Alain sighed as he placed his spoon back down into the bowl, "No I am not. It's all we had after the groceries were ruined."

Scowling in distaste, she argued further, "What about curry? I know we had the stuff to make curry!"

"Nope, we are out of potatoes." He mumbled before returning his attention to his food.

She stared at him as though he'd spoken nonsense, "…..Potato-less curry would be a hell of a lot better than this…this…this crap!"

"Hey. It's not crap. Rice porridge is good for you." He stated firmly with a sure look on his face.

"Oh yeah?" she questioned him with a raised brow, "Says who?"

He blinked at her challenging tone; he'd been hoping she'd just accept his answer, "Well…I mean I figured it has to be. I mean why else would the Japanese always eat it when they're sick."

Her eyes narrowed into slits as she stood, "Father, do I look sick?" she picked up the innocent bowl of rice porridge, "Do I look Japanese!!!??" she yelled as she chucked the bowl at his head.

He sighed and ducked his head to the side, the bowl narrowly missing his ear before continuing on to smack into the wall behind him with a wet slap. Inwardly, he cringed at the waste of food and effort, but then again, he supposed he should've known better. He frowned when he heard her rummaging through the fridge, "hey…what are you doing?"

"Hah! I knew there was something good in here!"

His frown deepened, _she couldn't have found his secret stash, could she? _But alas, she had and soon the smell of fried shrimp began to permeate the home. In silence, he mourned the loss of his shrimp, he had managed to hide them from her for 2 days now, but then again , that was a record in itself, he should've have expected her to find them. Sighing aloud, he continued to eat his rice porridge, a dish that seemed to truly lack in comparison to the crispy shrimp across from him.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

_The rise and fall of a non-existent pulse; a power increasing and decreasing, struggling to reach new heights, it was incredibly energizing. So when it finally hit its peak and leveled out he felt both exhausted and strong. Straightening his rigid figure, he waited as the smoke cleared and the two captains were revealed. Inhaling a sigh, he looked to his left gun, "Alright. Let's go…Lilynette." He was met with silence. Narrowing his eyes, he slammed the barrel of the ornamental gun into his forehead. "You ignoring me?!"_

_"OW!" came a female child's voice. "That hurt! What are you gonna do if you break my head open, dummy!?"_

_"Shut up!! It's your fault for not cooperating!" He yelled in an annoyed manner, "Anyway, how can I tell where your head is like that!?" He began to load the gun._

_"I've told you a million times, the tip is my head…OW!" Lilynette yelled back, "Ow, ow, that's my butt! What do you think you're doing!?" He ignored her, as he completed his task, barely in time for him to detect the oncoming presence of Kyoraku Shunsui. "Heh" Kyoraku brought his blade down upon him. _

_He propelled himself back, a cloud of dust seemingly kicked up mid-air, despite being hundreds of feet over a city. Narrowing his eyes, Stark spoke, "Attacking while I'm still talking? You seem-_

_He was given no chance to continue, as Kyoraku swung his blades in a horizontal arc, "BUSHO KOMA!" a sudden blast began to swarm over Stark and his eyes widened in apprehension as the captain leapt into the air, "takaoni."_

_Escaping the blast, he gazed up at the man with narrowed eyes, raising his gun, he fired. The red blast of cero was like a tower of light as it shot from the gun. Kyoraku had of course dodged the attack, but as he was re-orientating himself, his left sleeve singed and smoking, he caught sight of Stark falling on his side, Lilynette aimed at him. "Where was i?" Stark continued, "You seem a little panicked. That's not like you captain." He righted himself standing across from the said captain._

_"Well…I meant to kill you with the first blow…Your release really is something-if you're able to parry that." Kyoraku's eyes narrowed on his now upright figure, "And…That gun shoots ceros, doesn't it?"_

_He was quiet for a moment, "…That's right."_

_The captain starred him down, "…Am I wrong in thinking that it can shoot something else, too?"_

_Stark returned his gaze with a stare of his own, "…It can't."_

_Kyoraku continued merrily, "You're a bad liar. There's no use hiding it now."_

_Raising his gun, he responded, "I could say the same." Pointing his gun at him, he continued, "You made me do this pain in the ass release. So you'd better show me your bankai."_

_His posture still slumped and his eyes still holding a lazy look to them, he responded with, "No, no. No matter how strong you've gotten, if you're just going to shoot a cero- _

_Kyoraku froze as he felt the power build before it released in the form of over a dozen high speed cero blasts. _

_"CERO METEORAJETTA!"_

_Forced to shunpo out of the way, the 8__th__ division captain managed to dodge the enormous continuous blast, only to realize a truly upsetting fact…_

_"You can't run." Stark spoke as he paralleled Kyoraku's movement._

_…..the blasts were following closely behind him. "Ch-Chotto matte!" the captain called with a nervous look, "This isn't fair!"_

_"Sogyo no kotowari."_

_Stark had barely had the time to look surprised before a huge blast of light engulfed him._

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

His body jerked as he awoke from his slumber with a cold sweat, nearly falling out of the recliner. A snarl rang out through the living room and he found himself staring in shock at his television. He'd been watching a documentary on wolves when he'd dozed off and it was apparently still on, a beta wolf challenging its alpha. He rolled his eyes. Sighing, he ran his hands through his sweat soaked hair and leaned back into the chair. _That stupid dream again._ He thought to himself. It was one he was quite familiar with; however, now that he thought about it before, he'd never dreamed it with such clarity before. _And was it him, or did it seem to go on longer than it usually did? Normally it stopped around the 'CERO METEORAJETTA' bit. _He frowned for a bit, letting his mind dwell on it a little longer, before standing with a stretch. Popping his tired joints, he made his way to his bedroom with a sleepy yawn, but something caught his eye; the old pistol on the wall. He stared at it for a moment, and with a resigned 'why-the-hell-not look' he removed it from its case. Holding the pistol with care, he studied the way his hand held it with both a gentle hand and a grip he found too familiar to be comfortable with. A small smile came to his lips as he straightened his body and aimed the old pistol outwards from the right side of his body. "Cero Meteorajetta!" he whispered loudly.

Of course nothing happened. _Nothing ever did. So why did he keep trying?_ A sigh escaped his lips in the form of a yawn; it was too late to be thinking about this. Shaking his head he replaced the flintlock pistol back in its case. Another yawn and he knew it was time for bed. He turned, heading towards his bedroom.

Across the hall, on the other side of the door leaned Rochelle, her long blonde hair hiding her wide blue eyes from view. _Why? Why did that cranky old man know those words?..._The very same words that she herself had just dreamed.

It wasn't long before the house fell into silence again and the dark peace of night reigned with but a single disturbance. On the far side of the living room, tiny indentions had been forced into the white washed wall, dark singes etched lightly into them with a barely visible stream of smoke coming off the wall.

* * *

Her mind was moving a mile a minute as she made her way home. She still couldn't believe what had happened. She didn't know where it came from-presumably from the alley she was backed in- but one minute there was nothing in her hands and the next there was a weapon_-it was really a broom-_ and then she'd just gone berserk on them. _Okay so maybe it wasn't like that, but that's what it had seemed like. _As a matter of fact maybe we should start over from the beginning she thought as she climbed the stairs to her apartment.

"Shinzen Kitaro." Came the man in the dark blue silk shirt. She cringed at the name, the boy she'd killed, why did he know that name? What did they want from her?

"You know who killed him?" _What? They wanted to know who killed him? Wasn't it a known fact that she didn't know?! A lie. Seeing as she was his killer. _Slowly she shook her head, her eyes fearful.

"Enh?" the one in the suit jacket sneered and began walking over to her "I'm sorry, what was that?" he leaned over and snatched her closer by her collar, "Speak up so we can hear you!" his ugly pock marked face nearing closer.

The sound of somebody sucking against their teeth before letting out a sigh and the man who held her was snatched back by the man in the black suit; a good looking man in his late 20's "Urusei! She's a mute, stupid!" he tossed the ugly one to the ground and followed the motion with a harsh kick to his ass, "Tch."

"Baaaka." The one to the right of her, dressed in black slacks and a white short sleeved button down, sounded out before flicking his still lit cigarette onto the man where it began to burn. He then ran a hand through his ear length blonde hair. _Blonde?_ She thought, _it looks natural. _"You should learn how to treat a girl…" he turned his gaze and eyed her with a polite smile, "pardon me, woman."

"Takeshi." The suit called.

"Hmm?" The blonde Takeshi looked over and blinked at the harsh stare being directed towards him, "oh! Sorry boss." He stepped back and off to the side. "Wari!"

The guy in the suit; the boss moved forward then, "My name is Shinzen."

Her eyes widened and she looked up at him with shocked gaze. _Shinzen?!_

"Kitaro was my little brother. You can't talk, right?" he pulled out a note pad and pen, "Then write down what you know."

Fukami was in shock. _She'd killed a boy, she knew that. And while she wasn't over it, it was no longer as big of a shock to her. However finding out that he had ties to the yakuza; familial ties, as in his big brother was a yakuza boss was definitely going to take its toll on her. Scratch that, it already had. What was going on in her life? What would become of her?_ As she despaired a slow build up of pressure began, it was like the sound of the ocean; waves crashing against the shore, quiet at first, but it grew in volume. _She'd killed the little brother of a yakuza boss. What would happen to her when they found out that she had killed him?! ...She'd end up like Kasumi. _A whimper like gasp escaped her lips as she backed herself against the wall further, a stick of some sort digging into her back. The sound in her head had grown louder.

"Oi, boss?" The ugly one stood up and stared at his leader with uncertainty. "What's she doing?"

Fukami was still and her eyes vacant, but if one looked closely they could spot the slight trembling in her shoulders, the quick but small movement of her lips as they fought to mutter a word. Boss Tetsuo frowned as he watched her.

She was gradually falling apart. She hadn't thought of her death in so long and she didn't want to now. _Kasumi's screams still tore at her heart as she had cried out for help. She couldn't help her then and even now she'd probably still be unable to help her. Kasumi, a person she considered family had been violated then strangled to death right in front of her. All because of them…The Yakuza._ After Chihiro-san died from heart disease, the medical bills had piled up and they were unable to pay them, so Kasumi-chan had gone to them. _Why? Why did she do that? They would have been better off on the streets. _She was unaware of the tears making their way down her cheeks. They ate well and were debt free for all of one month before they came knocking on the door. It was impossible for them to have made the money back in such a short time. _And Kasumi paid for it._ The sound was nearly overwhelming now; a pressure roaring to be free.

"Oi. Onna." Tetsuo placed his hand on her shoulder and began to shake her.

It was then that the damn gave way and the whole ocean crashed over her. The power seared through her and a strange sense of peace filled her and it was there that she blacked out. She'd been halfway home when she came to, her actions a strange memory. It had been as though she were watching someone else.

She'd snatched the broom from behind her back and thrust it into the boss' gut. With a throaty grunt he fell to his knees. Broom still in hand, she stepped around him, her stride purposeful and deadly. Raising her head, the yakuza were met with a cool and challenging gaze. Unsure of what to do, they'd all glanced back to their boss, who, although with shaky breaths, was rising to his feet. An angry growl came from him before he charged her from behind. The others took their cue from their boss and charged her as well, fully intending to bring this insolent woman down. If she hadn't _felt_ herself shift in stance, she never would've known about it. Feet spread apart, she grasped the broom as though it were a sword. To others it was a blur of motion; to her it had been a fleet footed dance that told of a grace that she was terribly unfamiliar with.

Moments later when she was stepping over their prone and groaning figures, she barely paid them any mind, ignoring their grunts of pain for the most part, but when a hand wrapped around her ankle, her eyes narrowed. Without even looking down, she swatted the offending extremity away with the broom and a sickening crack told her the action had broken something. She then continued to walk away; her only observation of their existence came in the form of a word. "Fools."

Fukami sighed as she sank deeper into the tub. Despite having a clear and vivid memory of her "fight" she felt oddly detached from the memory as though it wasn't hers. And then another thing she found hard to swallow. _She'd spoke._ It was the second time in the past week. She hadn't uttered a word in the past five years and now all of a sudden, the words were coming un-beckoned. She sighed into the water and bubbles foamed around her. _Water._ She'd always had a fondness for it; whenever she felt stressed, water always brought her comfort for some reason. And now she had very clearly demonstrated some form of latent sword ability. _What next? Was she going to discover she'd been a pirate in a past life?!_

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

She'd just gotten on her PJs and was combing her hair when she walked past a bundle of mail and paused. That's right, the mail. She'd been too hungry to sort through it earlier. Turning she reached down to snatch it off the floor, before shuffling in her great white shark slippers to her futon where she flopped rather gracelessly. Lying back, she crossed her legs and began to sort her mail. _Junk, junk, junk, bill, junk, bill…..hello…_ she sat up, _what do we have here? _It was a neon pink flyer for_…kendo lessons. How ironic._ She studied the flyer. It guaranteed cheap lessons & a flexible schedule. Twirling her hair she pondered the idea of attending the lessons. Perhaps it was a sign. She shook her head. She'd think about it more tomorrow. After all it was late, she was tired, and she started work again tomorrow. Putting the flyer to the side, she lay back down and placed the covers over her. All was silent for about 2 minutes, before her stomach began to growl. She groaned in frustration. All that running around had made her hungry again. With a weary and irritated grunt she turned onto her side, bringing the covers up to her shoulders, she'd just have to deal 'til morning. Five minutes later, her stomach complained again. With an annoyed sigh, she prayed that morning would come quick.

**

* * *

**

Back in the alley, the blonde haired Takeshi sat up, a series of harsh coughs wracking his body soon after. Licking his lips afterwards he was surprised to taste blood. _The woman sure knew how to wield a broom. _He chuckled at his own joke, before it was turned into another cough. Reaching into his pockets he pulled out a cigarette and a lighter. He'd barely taken a drag when it was snatched from his lips. Narrowing his eyes he looked over to find the battered Tetsuo taking a drag from it himself. He snorted at his battered friend as he struggled to hold it between his lips. "Gimmie that. Your injured, you shouldn't smoke." He snatched it from him and continued to smoke, before his lungs contracted awkwardly and he began to choke and cough.

Tetsuo looked at him blandly, "You're one to talk."

Takeshi smiled through his coughing, "…yea well." He shrugged, leaning back against the wall. Taking a look around he reached over and dragged the ugly pock-marked Kumo towards him and propped his feet on his body. "Ahh…much better." He then tilted his head back and stared up at the sky, the wisps of grey smoke curling around the moon's pale face, "Well…" he looked at Tetsuo, who was watching him intently, "That was unexpected."

Tetsuo snorted looking the other way, clutching his ribs as he did so. He was pretty sure the broom handle had cracked a couple of them. Takeshi spoke again, "She was pretty interesting, ne, Tetsuo?"

Furrowing his brows, Tetsuo studied the ground, "…Seems suspicious to me."

"Haha…You would think so Tsuo-kun." He spoke with a cheery tone; as if he hadn't just been beaten near unconscious with a broom.

Boss Tetsuo turned and studied his close friend and stared at him oddly, before following the flow of his body to where his heels were digging into Kumo's ribs. "Hidoi, na."

"Hm?" He followed his bosses gaze, and laughed, "You think so?" with a small snicker, he lifted his feet crossed them and dropped them forcefully into Kumo's torso. The male heaved as his body bucked upwards and he struggled to breath. A cruel smirk grazed across Takeshi's lips at the action and Tetsuo stared at it before shaking his head. "Bastard." At this Takeshi grinned widely before laughing out loud.

**

* * *

**

~The next town over~

_**Kiriuke Hospital: Psychiatric Ward 7:30 a.m.**_

The clothes they'd given him were itchy and too plain. He desperately wanted out of them and out of the stupid wheel chair they'd insisted on pushing him in. He'd been clinically insane, _not fucking handicapped…Even if he had been strapped down to a bed for several years. He knew how to fucking walk-_

"Kamakiri-san"

He blinked as his thoughts were interrupted by the nurse, Saotome Karin. Belying his thoughts, he smiled at her gently, his blue eyes glancing at her name tag through messy brown hair, "Yes, Karin-chan?" his voice a smooth tenor, that sent the other nurses swooning. _But not Saotome. No, never her. The bitch was smarter than the rest of them; she knew something was off with him. He'd have to get rid of her soon. _

Saotome Karin frowned when he addressed her so familiarly, but never the less she continued, "Well, Kamakiri-san, everything checks out." _Even if you don't_, she thought. " You're free to go." _Although you should really be locked back up_, "Here are your belongings." She handed him a large bag. _She'd never liked Kamakiri Yotsuyou. Sure he was handsome, with his mixed foreigner looks and pretty boy face, but it was odd, they seemed in such contrast to the looks she'd often seen in his eyes. He was strange and suspicious, every time she was around him; she felt an odd murderous intent. And it scared her, but it seemed she was the only one who'd ever noticed this, she thought as she noticed a large group of nurses saying their farewells to their "precious Kamakiri-kun". _She rolled her eyes, as far as she was concerned she was glad to see the lying bastard leave.

_Useless, pathetic whores_, he grimaced mentally behind his blinding gentleman's smile. "Thanks everyone." His arms were laden with gifts as he stood from the chair, his slight wobbling, just for show as he supposedly regained his balance. It wouldn't take a genius to recognize, that for someone who had trouble standing he'd walked to the doors rather easily, but he was in a rush, he couldn't stand being here much longer. Glancing back, he turned towards the suspicious look he felt upon his form.

Karin frowned and clenched her fist as an impossibly wide grin that showed far too many perfect teeth for her liking spread across his face. _Kamakiri Yotsuyou, she did not trust that bastard out there alone._

* * *

**A/N:** OMG!!! I finally fucking finished!!!! WOOT!!!! Haha lol……..ya know that was my first time writing anything even slightly romantic (ulquihime scene above), so ya gotta tell me how I did. haha 16 pages and 9,800 words (i feel real proud), 15 pages if you take out my ANs, lol. _**READ THIS:**_ Oh and for more current updates on when I'll be updating I'm using a twitter account, just type in twitter dot com, add a slash and then type in my penname, real simple. _As always i ask that you PLEASE REVIEW!_

So umm yeah time for my excuses. Well first of all I was swamped with my English classes and writing those f'ing papers. And then I did the unthinkable…..i dropped out and did a 40hr. certification to become a certified PCA (personal care aide, the people who help out elderly and disabled people in their homes) so that I can finally have a job! (woot! I start Wednesday!.....so nervous….it's actually my first job) So that was the reason why I didn't do any writing this week, I was too exhausted to. Any way seeing as I'll only be working form 8-4 at the longest (right now it's only 8-10) I should have plenty of time to write and update. Now the reason I dropped out was because I couldn't take it anymore. I got tired of trying to settle for something that I didn't really want to do. Cuz I really want to write, so FREAKING badly. And the more I tried to settle the more I wanted to write, so I've just decided to get a job to support myself (and my bills hehe) and focus on writing! School is apparently not for me.

_**NOTE: **_So by the way, umm I have recently discovered the awesome anime that is Katekyo Hitman Reborn and I have watched every episode so far (I refuse to write a fanfic until I'm now without at least a little feedback and support there's a good chance that I might lose interest in this fic and we don't want that to happen, do we? No, I didn't think so.

I'm pretty sure that it was obvious who that was at the bottom, hunh? If you didn't think so, here's the meaning of his name:

**Names**

**Kama-** means 'sickle or scythe', **Kiri** means 'cut, cut off, or be sharp'. Together they mean 'Praying Mantis'

**Yotsu-** means 'four' and **You** means 'blade'.

-Ja ne,

BlackFirelight

_P.S._

The next chapter: _**'A Similar Hunger'**_

**Japanese 101**

_**Yamete**_- Stop or stop it

_**Yada**_- No way or No

_**Betsu ni**_- Nothing or nothing really

_**Nani**_- What?

_**Ja ne**_- See ya

_**Gochisousama deshita**_- kinda like 'thanks for the food'

_**Yakuza**_- oh c'mon…..Japanese mafia.

**_Urusei_**- basically the male version of 'Shut up' or annoying, noisy, etc.

_**Wari**_- uhh….kinda like a guy way of saying sorry

_**Chotto Matte**_- wait a minute

_**Hidoi**_- cruel, terrible, horrible, etc.

(Once again I note: if you have any complaints about my misusage of Japanese of I have the wrong meanings, feel free to correct me.)


	8. Chapter 7 A Similar Hunger

**Foreword: **Alright...it's been awhile i know. But it really couldn't be helped considering everything that's been going on...and yeah i know this chapter is kinda short, but that's because this is part 1. I didn't feel like waiting to get this out to you guys. (as you've all waited so long already) Hopefully by this weekend i will have the second half out for you to enjoy. But, anyway...So yeah I'm glad you guys enjoyed the last chapter. I, however, have a complaint for my reviewers…..you see when you ask me questions in your reviews I do intend to answer them, but I find that a very hard thing to do when you're not logged in. ...LOG IN! *sigh* _laziness_…. oh well…

**Disclaimer:** Really?...again?...*sigh*…fine…I do not own Bleach; I might wish I do, but I don't, so there!

_**WARNING! WARNING! WARNING! :**__ This chapter is where this story begins to earn its rating. No, this does not mean there is citrus content, but rather content of the crimson spatter & splatter. ENJOY!_

**The Cycle of Souls**

_**A Similar Hunger (pt.1)**_

_The giggling that surrounded him was both annoying and utterly amusing. Teenage human girls fawning over him, a sick joke he supposed. Yet here it was, taking place this very instance. He was sure to take advantage of it. After all, he was only giving the stupid whores what they wanted. His expression split into a friendly grin._

Rumors spread quickly in the school and it wasn't long before everyone knew of the "foreign exchange" student. It was so bad that even Tsume was sick of the bastard and he hadn't even met him yet. Which, Tsume thought was saying something because he was a lot more tolerant than some people…_Tomoe for instance._ He was contemplating pounding the bastard's face in just so he wouldn't get too cocky, seeing as all the girls wouldn't stop talking about him. He rolled his eyes at the incessant chattering of the females behind him. Sliding his hands over his face to run through his hair, his ragged sigh came more like an irritated snarl. This was becoming ridiculous!

He already knew what the ass looked like! He could hear their voices spiraling endlessly in his head. _Shiny brunette hair! A beautiful smile with perfect teeth! Amazing blue eyes, unlike anything they'd ever seen! _He scowled_. _HE_ had hazel eyes! Ya didn't see that everyday either! ….not that anyone cared…..fucking bastard._ His morning was already shit, but then fate had to just go ahead and flush it down the hole…_The asswipe was in his class._

"Please introduce yourself." Naora-sensei beckoned to him.

Tsume watched with a heated glare as the male nodded to the teacher.

"Kamakiri Yotsuyou." He bowed to the class. "Dozo Yoroshiku. Please take care of me." Straightening his back, he flashed a dazzling smile to all.

Tsume growled. He wasn't even looking at them and yet he was all too aware of his swooning female classmates. The bastard would have to be dealt with him. He watched him with narrowed eyes as he sat in his row, two seats over, an empty seat between them. It was a few minutes later, as the class began to settle that he really began to hate him.

For the most part, all eyes were on the board. The exception being the occasional glance a girl would sneak and Tsume's constant glaring. It was then that _'pretty boy'_-he was loathe to admit that that much was true-turned to stare back at him, friendly smile on his face. Tsume bared his teeth at him. _Stupid Bastard_. Then he watched as Kamakiri's friendly smile grew into a wide fiendish smirk, his pearly whites bared for all to see and his eyes narrowed at him in a mocking manner. Tsume frowned, his expression was a bit familiar and entirely creepy, a quick glance around revealed that He was the only available to witness it. "Keh!" he turned away.

Yotsuyou's or rather Nnoitora's expression became a full-fledged grin as he whispered to him, "oi, kusotare."

Tsume flinched at the insult, a low growl spilling from his lips.

His grin began to stretch until it was so large it seemed impossible and a slight laughter was heard before, "Dabo."

His frame trembling in rage, Tsume stood and yelled, "Kono yaro!" _The asshole was pushing it!_

However, before he could make a move to do something about the grinning Kamakiri, he was reprimanded by Naora-sensei, "Kobushi! Sit!" Yet even as the teacher spoke the words in a strict manner, he shivered under Tsume's harsh, pinning glare. Thankfully, although with a rather loud frustrating growl, the beast flopped back into his seat.

Nnoitora turned back to face the front of the class, a small smirk hidden behind his clasped hands. His test had been quite successful; in fact it was _too _easy_._ _No matter the skin he wore, Grimmjow was still the same senseless animal he'd always been._ His smirk grew beyond the ability to be hidden and so it was quickly converted into a smile for his female neighbor, who then proceeded to blush and look away.

"Pay attention Kamakiri."

"Ah!" He started in a nervous fashion and began to rub the back of his head, seemingly embarrassed. "Sorry, Naora-sensei."

The sounds of snickering students filled the room as he stared down at his desk, an accomplished smirk on his face. _Now, he just needed to find Ulquiorra._

**/^\^/^\^/^\**

When he finally found Ulquiorra, he could barely contain his glee and was forced to squash his urge to grin. He'd found him late into the lunch period, perched precariously on the stone wall surrounding the roof's end. Hopping onto the same ledge, a few feet to the side of Tomoe, he found it harder to suppress his urge.

He was silent for a moment, before crouching down and looking up at him. "Kanzenkiba Tomoe, ne?"

Tomoe said nothing in response; he eyes merely turned in their sockets to glance in his direction, as if he weren't even worth the effort of turning his head.

A subtle twitch formed on the face of Kamakiri Yotsuyou's face, just above his left eyebrow. _Still a high and mighty bastard… _"Such a deadly sounding name," he joked referring to Kanzenkiba's meaning of 'Perfect/Complete fang'.

Tomoe turned and leapt down, landing on the roof quietly. "While yours seems to name you as the pest you appear to be." He moved towards the roof's exit without hesitation.

"Tch…" Nnoitora grinned at his back. "I was afraid your insults had lost their bite…"

When he reached the door Tomoe rolled his eyes and briefly wondered why such trash was even talking to him.

"…_Ulquiorra."_

He froze then. That name, how did he know it? He turned slowly at first, hesitant, but shock caused him to snap back to stare at the one called Kamakiri Yotsuyou, only to find him absent of his recent post. Eyes narrowing, he searched for his presence as there was only one exit from the roof and he stood in front of it, yet somehow he was gone. He frowned deeply. He wasn't frightened by this development, nor was he even nervous. Instead, he found himself annoyed and somewhat angry that someone was able to get away with such a thing. With his irritated mood draping over him like a heavy veil, he left the roof, making it to class just as it was starting.

**/^\^/^\^/^\**

The walk home was not something that neither Tomoe nor Tsume normally enjoyed, but it had also never been something that they hated. Yet, both found their patience wearing thin…_Well_ truthfully, Tsume's was already gone and he was currently yelling out threats to find the "sneaky bastard" while Tomoe merely narrowed his eyes at the presence. From the moment they'd left the school, they knew they were being followed and despite all attempts to find the follower, they were unable to.

They thought to brush it off as simply nerves, but then a barely audible snicker was heard as Nnoitora laughed, his ability to hold in his laughter at their attempts to find him having failed him. It'd be so easy for him to kill them now, but no, he wanted to toy with them for a bit.

When they'd finally reached the home, Tomoe's mother was sitting out on the small concrete stoop, smoking a cigarette. Her son frowned at her, he'd never found this particular habit appealing as it was, but considering the odd presence around them, he didn't want her outside. "Kaa-san."

"Mmm?" She looked at him exhaling the smoke.

He watched as the grey wisps curled almost playfully towards the dreary looking sky, being sure to avoid them. "Have you started dinner yet?"

Aleasha blinked. "Uhhh…no?" She looked at him in an apologetic but laughing manner.

He glared at her then. "Then shouldn't you be doing that now?" His tone was bordering on harshness and she frowned up at him.

"I'll get it in a minute," she stated seriously, flicking her cigarette ashes to the right of her. "Go inside, both of you, before someone starts thinking I have new lawn ornaments."

Tomoe rolled his eyes before stepping past her into the house, Tsume following, only with a snort in response.

Taking a drag from her cigarette, she stood, running a hand through her hair, only to ruffle it into disarray once more. As she released the inhaled smoke with a sigh, she stared out across the resident street, eyes focused on a single corner. Smearing the cigarette out on the stone walls she turned around to head inside, muttering to herself, "creepy ass bastard."

As it was Nnoitora was behind that very corner, his pretty face twisting into an expression of disgust. _How had some random _human whore_ known exactly where he was when not even Grimmjow _or_ Ulquiorra could find him? How?_

Hearing the door shut, he stepped into the alley, watching the peaceful and unassuming home for another moment, however, a glance at his watch told him his playtime was up. He had work to do; Karin-chan would be leaving the hospital soon. It was with this thought that his signature grin plastered his face once more as he walked from the residential neighborhood. Oh, the things he was going to do to her…but first, a quick pit stop was in order. He couldn't go unprepared, now could he?

**/^\^/^\^/^\**

Her vision obscured by the heavy downpour that tore the sky asunder, she wasn't aware of where she ran. In fact, it bothered her none at all when she darted down an empty alleyway, accompanied only by trash cans and discarded valuables. She didn't look back. She didn't have to to know that he was behind her still. The grinding that followed told her that much. The rapid clacking of her heels was echoed by the grating of steel against asphalt. She wanted to cry at the injustice of it all. She struggled to get where she was in life, she was smart and wasn't easily fooled. She should've gone farther in life. And yet, here she was running for her life in some cliché back alley! _Why?_ Because she'd been the only one smart enough to notice the _real him_.

She couldn't recall how long she'd been running; fear had done away with her ability to create a cohesive recollection. She was barely conscious of her actions, only the deep pain settling in her chest and sides could remind her. Some irrational feeling had clouded her thoughts into believing that if she could just keep running she'd be safe. A pointless hope, but one she clung to desperately. A snap sounded and she knew that nothing could help her now. The strain of the long run and loss of balance had taken its toll; she toppled to the ground.

She struggled to remove the straps of her once expensive heels; the grime and grit that caused her fingers to slip and fumble was no doubt clinging to her clothes as well. Yet, she could not be bothered to care, not when her murderer was stalking up to her with such calm that one might think him taking a Sunday stroll. She dragged her body back, before kicking off the shoes that hindered her. She turned and stood, fully intending on running from her death, only to collapse as she stared at her leg in shock. A long slender piece of ceramic jutted out from her pale skin, blood branching out from the wound like small crimson streams only to be washed away by the rain that pelted her body unforgivably. Not three feet from her was an overflowing trash can and near it a broken flower vase laid. A simple thing it was; white ceramic with blue flowers painted on it. The sob tore from her chest unbidden as the grating came to a halt.

She heard splashes now, the sounds of his loafer clad feet stepping into puddles that had formed in the unexpected storm. Wide eyes filled to the brim with tears could see why the awful sound had stopped. The four-foot long pipe was no longer dragging the ground and had been settled onto a shoulder. Five steps were all it took for his form to stand over hers, his wet, dripping mop of brown hair clinging to his face and shielding his eyes from view.

She tried to scream, but as she watched that hideously wide grin spread on his face, she could only choke out a strangled sob. "Didn't you miss me, Karin-chan?"

The amused chuckle that followed chilled her in a way the cold could not. She could say nothing, as her tears left streaks down her dirtied cheeks.

She had been right about him.

It was all she could think. Every time she'd felt at unease or wary in his presence she was right. It was everyone else who'd been wrong. And now—now, she was going to die because of it.

"Eh?" He cocked his head at her and soon a cruel sneer formed on his lips, "Answer me bitch!" His voice lost its smooth tenor and grew ragged and filled with disgust.

Terror, her eyes were filled with it, yet a defiant bone still lived within her body and through the frightened gasps that shook her frame she said, "No." His eyes darkened in rage, she knew it didn't matter what she did anymore. It was far too late to scream, there was no one nearby and she knew it wouldn't carry. The sound would be drowned out by the roaring percussion of thunder. She watched him take a step forward, the pipe lifting from his shoulder, and with a strangled cry she saw him swing.

The metallic ringing echoed into the air as the pipe connected with a sickening crack.

She probably died instantly, but that didn't matter to him. He knew he was hasty in killing her. He'd wanted draw her death out, but then she went and defied him. And it _pissed him off._ Unfortunately, her silent corpse pissed him off even more. He wanted to hear her scream and beg for mercy. Now he never would. His lips twisted into a sneer and he let loose an inhuman snarl. His body lunged forward, caught in a frenzied motion as he began to bludgeon and beat her body with repetitive strikes from the steel pipe. The cracking of her skull dissolved into a thudding squish as skull and brain became no different from the other. The wet smack of blood and organ as it pelted his body only added to his rage. He proceeded to grit his teeth in a fiendish display even as he tasted her blood. He pounded into the broken and battered body continuously, seemingly without end.

It was a while before he could calm himself and by that time there was nothing but a misshapen lump of flesh and shattered bone. His breath shuddered through his body as he took in the sight of her mutilated body. He was in no way satisfied, but it would have to do. _For now._ Disappointed with himself and his prey, he decided to call it a night. One that he considered a waste of his time, as it was not nearly as satisfying as he'd hoped. And just as he moved, the most unexpected thing happened.

Lights. Very bright lights, were suddenly upon his form. He squinted at the source. Headlights. The car had driven up on him while he was…_distracted_. He gazed into the windshield for a long while and was soon pleased to realize that inside the car, a couple stared back, mesmerized by the sight. He smiled then. _How interesting._ Perhaps his night wasn't as ruined as he thought.

* * *

**Afterword: **I've no idea, how many wonderful readers i may or may not have lost due to my ...absence, but i thank any of you who have come back to enjoy my work! (at least i hope you're enjoying it anyway O.o) I've been going through a lot of stress lately, and it's not over yet, in fact it's about to get worse...yet for some reason...it's almost over. -.^ Why does everything have to get worse before it gets better! i hate that...-_-...*sigh* but, yea thanks to everyone who decides pick this fic up again and read (and review. . .)

-Ja ne,

**_Black Firelight_**

**Japanese 101: **Insults and stuff (lol)

**_Kusotare_**- Shithead

**_Dabo_**- an insult to one's intelligence, basically the equivalent of calling someone a complete idiot.

**_Kono Yaro_**- a very impolite way of saying you/or/that bastard


	9. Chapter 8 Mutilation

**Foreword:** That's right! I'm BACK! I will be updating far more often than I have been XD (~cough~ once a year. .) So aside from this chapter expect 2 (or 3 if I'm lucky. XD) more chapters before this year is out. It is my hope that with my new method of writing; scheduling scenes and the like to write per day, that I can accomplish more even amongst a busy schedule. I just want to say I really do appreciate all my readers (although…I appreciate my reviewers a tad bit more, as they give me feedback. XD) I hope I haven't lost too many of you all in my absence. Thanks for taking the time out of your days (or nights) to read my stories.

On another note you'll notice this is not pt. 2 (to A Similar Hunger) I decided against it as I redid my outline and just chose for ch. 7 to be left short, but don't worry you'll get your "money's worth" (as if you people pay me…) with this chapter.

**Disclaimer: **….ugh….really? Not this B.S. again…*sigh*….All those who believe I own Bleach raise your hand….*waits*…..*shoots all who raised their hands*…..anyone _else_ think I own Bleach?...*cricket noises*…..good! …I do not own Bleach, that honor belongs to Tite Kubo and his associates (-I guess).

**The Cycle of Souls**

_**Mutilation**_

_Italy 6:58pm_

The visibility in the dim room was made worse by numerous plumes of sweet cigar smoke. The scent was thick in the room, too thick for the would-be assassin, but he could bear it a little longer. Just long enough for his target to move. Said target; a man who had been knocking back drinks in a corner of the dim lit bar for over three hours now, celebrating a promotion of sorts. On top of his drinking, he'd been flirting and nearly throwing himself at every female that walked near him, even going so far as to reach out and grab what he could of them. He'd been the bane of the bar's happy hour.

The assassin smiled as his target stood to relieve himself, small fangs protruding over his lower lip as he noticed no one had cared to notice the man's departure. The man in question was Dario Morettí; the fool had made many enemies in the last couple of weeks, one of which not even a dead man would cross. The assassin fingered the blades hidden in his sleeves. Unfortunately for Dario, his luck had run out.

Dario frowned, banging on the bathroom door. "Open the fucking door! C'mon! Get the fuck outta there! I gotta take a piss!" He waited in silence for a moment before a stream of Italian curses followed. Running his hands through his dark hair he sighed and stepped out into the alley from the only rear exit. He'd have to resort to pissing in the alleyway because some dumb fuck had decided to lock themselves in the toilet. _How wonderful_. Putting his cigar in his mouth, he freed himself from his pants and began to urinate. Staring at the dark scenery of the shadowed alley, he almost missed the glint of silver hidden in the alley's shadows. Frowning, he fixed himself up and pulled his berretta from his pants, spitting out the cigar he spoke, "Who's there?" The only answer he received was a flash of steel. An arc of blood splashed along the wall, shortly followed by what could only be strips of tanned and bloodied flesh. It wasn't long before the screams of Dario Morettí were conducted under the precise and efficient slashes of a successful and skilled assassin.

After cleaning his blades on Dario's shirt, he spun the butterfly knives closed with a skill his small hands belied. It had taken careful planning to draw Dario out into the alleyway: the free drinks, the single bathroom, the now dead man in the bathroom, all just to lure him out into a place where he could do his job without interruption. However not everything went according to plan. His victim's screams had alerted the police. He'd heard them coming a while back, but he still had had a job to do, so he worked as fast and efficiently as he could. Unfortunately just as he'd put his tools away, they dashed down the street and halted at the alleyway's entrance. He would not allow himself to be caught, so he did the one thing his current body knew best how to do.

The officer was caught off guard by the wailing cry of a child. Startled, he found a small boy dressed in all white with lightly tanned skin and unruly black hair. "What's wrong?" he crouched down near the small child.

Hiccupping, the boy hesitantly pointed down the dark alley. "Th-there…" He immediately started crying again. Frowning, the police officer stood and made his way to the back of the alley. What he found made him glad that he hadn't eaten lunch yet. The man lay helplessly on the ground, his face was twisted into an expression of agony, and his blood decorated the stone walls. The officer stumbled back as he nearly tripped over a gun, and with a thick swallow he realized the gun was still held by a hand that was no longer attached to a body.

Moving closer to the walls, he frowned in confusion. _What is tha-…_ He didn't need to finish his thought as he turned on his flashlight and revealed the strips of human flesh that had been haphazardly flung onto the wall. With an uneasy grimace he turned the light's rays onto the body. He paled. On the man's stomach, his skin had been removed to form a word with thick lettering: _Muerte. Death._ The word had been carved out while he was still alive before he had been finished off by a still bleeding wound in his chest. The officer stared in morbid fascination. _And a kid saw this?_ He raised his head to spot the child, only to find him gone. He blinked. _Where'd the kid go?_

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

_Stupid humans_, He grinned as he ran. His drying tears gleaming against his light brown eyes in the light of the setting sun. He pushed and shoved through crowded cobble stone streets, knocking women and children over and sending groceries flying. He ignored the insults and outraged yells that called after him. He loved this city, what with all its gullible citizens. He dashed around a corner, to where a black limousine was waiting for him, the door held open by the driver. He jumped and slid in, a cocky smirk on his face. "Done." He reached over for his lunch box.

"My, my, you _are_ a bundle of energy, aren't you?"

He paused at the voice before a sneer spread over his features, _what the hell was that prick doing here? Magnus Soldios. Bastard._ He turned to look at his guardian; a large elderly man, blind in one eye, dressed in an all black suit; Sovrano Muerte, he was called. "Be quiet, Magnus." The Sovrano told him.

Magnus sneered at the elder man before sighing with a small smile. Magnus Soldios, to the humans he was an ingenious scientist and a brilliant doctor, but to Xun, he was just a cunt. He was dressed in a grey Armani suit with a pink dress shirt, his silver and square framed glasses perched on his nose.

Sovrano ignored Magnus and turned his attention to the seven years old, Xun Jien Dao, "Report."

Placing his lunchbox in his lap, Xun proceeded to speak, "There's nothing to tell. I lured him into the alley and left the message." He opened his lunch box with a smile and picked up his nutella with strawberries and bananas sandwich. He hated most humans, but he loved the woman who made his lunch, Rosa knew just how he liked it, taking a bite, he frowned when a glob of nutella found its way onto his white shirt.

"Oh dear." Magnus stated watching with amusement in his hazel eyes, tendrils of his slicked down ebony hair falling into his face, "It's always been a wonder to me how you can commit such artistic murders, come out spotless, and yet, be such a messy eater." Pushing his hair back he began to laugh in an almost crazed manner.

"Be quiet you fool or I shall silence you permanently!" Sovrano cut into his amusement with a single bellow.

Xun smirked to himself as Magnus was interrupted by Sovrano. Watching the man sneer in distaste was a very satisfying view as he ate his lunch. Smiling now, he reached for his juice box, only to realize it wasn't there. He frowned and slowly a growl made its way from his throat. _She forgot his apple juice! He always had a box of apple juice with his sandwich, ALWAYS. She knew this and yet she forgot it today of all days, when he was really thirsty! The bitch was fucking dead! She'd had the same job every day, for a year! Not a god damned thing had changed! And now the bitch wants to develop fucking amnesia! _

/\*/\*/\*/\*/\

_Karakura Town, Japan 6:33am_

The rain had washed away any clues they'd hoped to find. The detectives who upon arriving on the scene had to keep from vomiting their lunch back up, were ready to give up before the case had even started. It was the garbage man who'd found the bodies, or what was left of it in one case.

The lines that fanned from his eyes grew deeper as he narrowed his eyes against the early morning's grey dawn. Surveying the scene, it took all of Detective Shima's will power to fight the urge to dig a cigarette from his pockets. _Whoever did this…_ He sighed; giving up the fight and searching his pockets for a light with one hand while the other freed a cigarette from the pack in his shirt pocket.

It happened sometime late last night, probably during the storm given the water damage and the fact the no one had reported any strange sounds despite it being in a neighborhood. They'd most likely died within minutes if not moments of each other or at least the two who were mostly intact. The last victim, assumed first chronologically, was hard to judge, both as an image and as a victim. She'd been beaten so badly that without testing her remains they could only assume her gender by her clothes. Her body they hadn't collected yet, it would take some time before they could properly remove all of her. _…couldn't have been human. _But he knew better. This was a crime only a human could commit. Given the brutality demonstrated on both females in comparison to the quick death of the male, Shima could only assume the perpetrator had something against women. But this one, the one whose slaughtered remains lay propped against the alley wall had been the main target of the killer's rage, undoubtedly. He grimaced as he studied the walls stained with blood, bits of bone, and brain matter. He'd seen a lot of things in his twenty-five-plus years on the force, but this was something else entirely.

"Shima!"

He glanced back at the call of his subordinate.

"We think we've got something!"

Turning on his heel, he walked back over to the driver's side of the car, where a field agent stood leaning over the glass staring intently at the perfect circle punched through the window. The hole continued into the man's skull.

"What is it?"

The much younger agent smiled up at him in a cocky way, "I think I know what the murder weapon is."

Detective Shima could only raise an eyebrow. He hadn't the heart to tell the kid that there were only so many objects capable of doing such damage. No, the hard part, was fathoming how the strength needed to wield the object in such a manner could be capable. "What, kid?"

"A pipe!" He gestured to the hole. "It's a perfect circle and I'm pretty sure it's the same size all the way into the poor guy's head. Plus, I bet it was all done in one go! It'd be pretty hard for it to line up that perfect if they did it in more than one thrust, so the weapon had to be of a decent length."

Shima narrowed his eyes at the hole. No, he thought. If this person was capable of making so perfect a hole in the glass without so much as a single scratch in the rest of the window, then he didn't doubt for a second that they could do it a second time. Then again, if they _could_ do it, purely by strength alone…he highly doubted they would have needed to do it twice.

"And if you think about the other woman's broken bones and the bruising it all fits!" The smile on his face made Shima inwardly cringe. _Damned desensitized youth…_

Taking a much needed drag from his cigarette, the detective came to a conclusion. _He really didn't want to meet the person responsible for this._

/\*/\*/\*/\*/\

A few hours earlier…

The muscles in his face clenched painfully, yet still he couldn't stop the grin that stretched its way across his face some time ago. Dragging, his hand across his face, he laughed silently. Even now, under the warm spray of his shower, his mind was elsewhere, his eyes following the blood that trailed toward and down the drain. His mind was in the past, in a dark alleyway, weighted down by rain soaked clothing.

His steps sent up cascades of water as they splashed through the growing rain puddles. Sliding the pipe from his shoulder lazily, it dropped suddenly, hanging at his side limply. The edges of the make-shift weapon trailing water as it skimmed the surface of the flooding street. He continued past the car's hood, out of direct view of the headlights and stopped at the driver's side door.

Inside the car, the couple stared in morbid fascination at the young man, drenched yet splattered with dark red globs and smears. Gathering his wits, the driver turned to his wife. "Get out."

"But-" she began.

"Get out!" No sooner than the words had left his lips, a scream tore from his wife's throat. Reflexively, he turned to seek out the source of her terror. His head never completed the turn. He was facing the windshield when his eyes caught sight of his oncoming end from the corner of his vision.

She sat frozen in place as a warm and wet substance spattered across her face. The pressure welled in her throat. The sound was slick and slightly crunchy. She fought against the fear that kept her silent, fought to breath, to scream as the pipe slid from its once living sheath and scraped against perfectly punctured glass.

He lowered the pipe and tapped it against the edge of a shoe. The shuddering wet thump of brain matter and bone exiting the metal tube and dropping to the ground is what pushed her to push the sound from her lungs and out her mouth. She fumbled with the handle and shoved her way out the door, tumbling to the ground where she scrambled to her feet and took off running. Transfixed, he stared after her, before he ground his teeth in distaste.

She didn't hear him after her and was almost at the end of the alley when she was snatched by her hair, her face wrenched back and exposed to the dark sky and its tears.

"I didn't say you could run, did I?" His breath was hot against her chilled, wet skin. She didn't answer him, couldn't really, all she could do was sob.

He continued anyway. "Well since you're so determined to run, we'll have to fix that won't we?"

She didn't see it when he struck, her gaze still directed up, but she felt the white hot flash of pain as he shattered her knees with steel. Screaming, she fought to free herself from his grasp. It was in vain and she was rewarded the sight of her elbow poking free of her flesh inwardly. With a shove, she hit the ground unable to stand. She screeched and sobbed against the dirty asphalt, futilely attempting to drag herself. She'd barely made it a foot away before she was ruthlessly kicked over onto her back and a foot planted beneath her ribs. She wheezed and sobbed again as she stared up at the wide grin of absurdly white teeth.

"Try not to move. I'd hate to miss." He adjusted his grip and with a look of smug satisfaction, he hammered the pipe across her throat.

Even now, the sound of her tears and cries pushed his smile to its limits. Too bad, it wasn't entirely what he wanted. A woman crying at his feet was great and all, but what he really wanted was for them to beg. To beg for their lives, beg forgiveness for whatever lowly thing they'd done, beg _him_.

The thought that he hadn't gotten that, which he wanted most, turned his painful grin into a distasteful grimace. Grinding his teeth, he turned his shower off and reached for the towel. He dried off and dressed quickly, eyeing the time throughout. Fixing himself something to eat, a simple slice of toast, he walked out onto his small balcony. There wasn't much on it, a plant or two courtesy of his female neighbors and a few empty boxes he'd yet to dispose of. There was however something there that didn't normally take up residence on his property; a blue plastic tub. Finishing his meager meal, he stepped over to the object. He rolled up his sleeves and his nose twitched at the over powering scent of bleach. Reaching a hand in, he removed a steel pipe, a meter in length. He snatched up a fluffy looking towel and began to dry and clean away any possible remaining residue.

Satisfied with the result, he set the pipe by the front door and poured the tub of bleach down the drain. Minutes later he was holding his bag and slipping on his shoes. He'd almost forgotten it, but he managed to reach back in and grab the pipe before shutting the door.

About five minutes from the house and ten minutes from the school there was a construction site, he'd scoped it out prior to his "events" the night before. The workers wouldn't arrive for another hour, with the earliest worker arriving thirty minutes before. So there was no trouble for him when he simply entered the site, found the corresponding sizes of pipes and laid his retired weapon amongst its brethren. He'd been halfway to the school when a black sedan drove past him sedately, stopping at a light; a thin stream of wispy smoke trailed out the driver side window. He'd paused to wave it from his presence in distaste when he'd heard the passenger speak up.

"Shimaaaa" the voice whined. "I thought you said you were quitting!"

He sneered. It'd be preferable. Judging from the looks of the man, he was likely to keel over any day now. Perhaps he'd pass from lung cancer. He snorted and turned down the street away from the vehicle.

The rest of his walk proved rather uneventful aside from some punks beating the shit of each other around the corner. He'd been stuffing his shoes into his locker when a weight fell into his back. He sneered inwardly as heard a female cry out in apology. _Clumsy bitch_. Regardless of how he felt, however, Kamakiri Yotsuyou wouldn't express it. Instead he turned with a friendly smile.

"It's fine, really." He bent to help her up, but found himself frozen as he stared down into grey amethyst eyes.

_Her._

It was the girl. No, woman. This was the same female that Aizen had brought into their territory. It was because of her that they came. This tiny, helpless wench had inadvertently brought about his death. His jaw clenched as he held back the urge to snarl and kill her where she sat. So, he forced it back and held out a hand. She took it and he hauled her to her feet before bending down and collecting her scattered papers. Standing, he held them out to her.

"You should be more careful…" He trailed off in search of her name.

"Ah!" She flushed in embarrassment. "Inoue."

"Well, Inoue-san, you should be more careful." The smile on his face was nearly frozen as he fought against an opposing force.

"Yes! I will!" She was cheerful as she hurried to her first class.

The smile slipped from his face instantly as he stared after her. _Inoue…Orihime. _

His thoughts shifted gears as he heard the low gossiping of his fellow students.

"Ahhh…Inoue-san. A vision of womanliness, right?"

"Shhh!" There was a thump and a gasp of breath and Yotsuyou could only conclude that someone had gotten hit.

"Don't you know! That's Kanzenkiba's woman!"

"What? Get real! Even if he was interested in a woman, she's a teacher! He wouldn't stand a chance!" His tone was loud despite being whispered.

"Haven't you heard?"

"Heard what?"

"Inoue-san's always talking to him after school."

"So?"

"What could she possibly want to talk to him about? He's got the best grades in the school!"

"Mmm…I guess. Still…"

"Plus, every guy that challenges him over her gets their ass kicked!"

There was a brief silence. "That's right! I forgot Kanzenkiba was the Judo club captain."

A smack to the head and his companion spoke up again, "Yea, that's right. I know what I'm talking about. Now let's go before somebody hears you being a moron!"

Yotsuyou snorted before a smirk swept across his face. _Kazenkiba. Ulquiorra. _He laughed then. Too easy, it was all too easy. First he found Ulquiorra and Grimmjow, both in the same vicinity five days a week for six hours each. They were his to take out whenever he pleased. Now there was Inoue Orihime. With her appearance he finally realized why the name Karakura bothered him so much. This was the town Aizen had attacked; the resident home of all the human interlopers. His grin grew wider. They were all here, in one place. It's like they were just waiting on him. And now Ulquiorra had some sort of connection to the woman. He kept his laughter to a minimum. It would seem he'd found his first method of himself he made his way to class, his mind turning over his newly crafted idea anxiously.

/\*/\*/\*/\*/\

She'd been forced to stay late again. She sighed to herself in a reserved hum as she packed up her things and left the faculty office. It was times like these that she pondered over her decision to be a teacher. She didn't hate the job, in fact she didn't dislike it at all, it was just that her work hours often continued on even after school was over, which cut into her own time; time that she could be spending helping the others keeping the hollows at bay. She was slacking off on her duties. Normally, the extra work could be evenly distributed between Uryuu, Sado, and Kurosaki, but Uryuu was at a medical conference with his father in Tokyo and Sado had taken a trip to Spain a few weeks ago. Neither was due back until the end of the week, which meant that Kurosaki was taking on the task of defending the whole town for the next few days and already had been for three days. She felt horrendously guilty.

And so that was probably the reason she hadn't said anything about her on and off roommate. After all, he still lived with his family; he was going to college full time, working a part time job and still patrolling Karakura town all hours of the night. She felt her guilt quadruple as she thought this over. He probably needed a goodnight's sleep and then some. On the bright side, at least Urahara had begun paying Kurosaki and the others for their services. It wasn't much, but it was better than nothing when they were already forced to support themselves.

At the thought of Urahara, she smiled. He'd gone out of the way to help them after all they'd been through while still in high school. It was because of him that she'd managed to get a Teaching degree. That is to say, she did all the work, but it was because of his connections and referrals that she was able to be fast tracked. She hummed to herself and considered paying him a visit. It'd be nice to see how Ururu-chan and Jinta-kun were doing. She smiled at the thought of how cute the two were, but a glance at her watch said a visit was unlikely to happen. Although it was unlikely that they'd be sleep, she didn't feel right visiting this late unless it was necessary. Not to mention, she thought with a shudder, there was Urahara-san's new assistant. Sure he was a nice boy, but he was always staring at her in such a blank manner, it freaked her out a bit.

Perhaps, she'd visit during the weekend. When she didn't have to work…and when his assistant was likely to be a work. She brightened a bit at this. Yes, she'd go see how they were doing Saturday. Wait no, she promised Tatsuki-chan she'd come over for dinner. Sunday, then!

She was smiling brightly to herself now, mentally planning her dinner and pondering over whether or not Kurosaki-kun would be attending the meal or not. Sadly, he always seemed to arrive just as she was cleaning up. She was beginning to wonder if he was eating healthily. She'd been a block from her apartment when a figure bumped into her. She stumbled, but didn't fall.

"Sorry, I wasn't looking where I was going." There was silence as he stared at her with wide eyes, "Inoue-san?"

"Oh! It's you again-" She paused as she realized as she hadn't gotten his name. "I'm sorry, you never told me your name."

"Ah. Haha, that's true isn't it." He scratched at his head in an embarrassed fashion. "It's Kamakiri. Kamakiri Yotsuyou."

* * *

**Afterword: **I just wanted to state that next chapter should be longer, by at least a 1,000 words or so. Anyway, as much as i love you people for clicking and reading, i love the people who review more. -_-

ALSO! Credit to my most amazing beta: If you haven't read her stories, you don't know what you're missing!

-See ya next week!...or the week after that...heh.

**_BlackFirelight_**


	10. Chapter 9 In Defense

**Foreword:** Hello…yes. I know. I'm behind schedule. I'm WAY behind schedule, but that's okay. After all, you're here reading this chapter in the end….. XD I hope anyway.

**Disclaimer:** My warped and twisted sense of the mind, OCs, and conceived plot is all that I own here. Bleach and all its associated characters are property of Tite Kubo. For any that suggest otherwise…well they can rub themselves down with my snotty tissues for all I care.

**The Cycle of Souls**

**_In Defense_**

Her breathing was labored and her arms trembled from overexertion, but still she kept moving. Another downward stroke, the motion smooth and swift; her sides ached with the repetitive action. A step forward and another stroke; another step, another stroke; she continued past the exhaustion and pain. She didn't stop until a hand clapped down on her shoulder. "Hyoujin-san."

The shinai clattered to the floor as she nearly jumped out of her skin in fright. The old instructor blinked for a moment before giving a hardy chuckle at her expense. Clutching at her chest beneath the keikogi of her practice uniform, she heaved a deep breath before reaching up to remove the protective helmet. Snatching it off, she leveled a fierce glare at the old man.

He was somewhere between sixty and seventy years of age, and had short dark grey hair that grew straight out from his roots, dark brown eyes, worn tan skin, and a faint mustache that circled into a well groomed goatee. And it was to Fukami's ire that he immediately chuckled harder at the sight of her.

Her expression fell lax as she realized she must look a mess. She had once again forgotten to wrap the towel properly around her head and it had begun to slip allowing sweat soaked locks to flop across her eyes and cling to her still perspiring face. Becoming annoyed with the man's persistent laughter she cleared her throat loudly. To her disappointment, she went unheard. She was forced to attempt it a second time, when her instructor, Masaru-san quickly calmed himself as though it had never happened.

Clearing his own throat, he shoved his hands into his sleeves and spoke up, "As I was attempting to say, Hyoujin-san, you've practiced quite enough for today, all the other students have left for the day. In fact I dare say you've practiced even longer than my advanced students, but then again I've found you to be extraordinarily gifted for a beginner."

In response she only chewed her lip, looking away from his praise, before giving a quick bow in acknowledgement of it. She'd be lying if she said it hadn't come easy to her. The lessons had felt more like a refresher course. The only reason she practiced as hard as she did was to strengthen her body for the strain of the sword. Of course, she'd think to herself, it's not as if she'd ever be wielding a real blade any time soon.

"Well," her sensei interrupted her thoughts, "I'll leave you to change and get your things together." A short bow later and he was sliding the shoji doors shut.

With a sigh she made short work of removing the practice armor. Soon afterwards, she was rinsing the sweat and grime off her skin under the hot spray of a shower. She was thankful that Masaru-san's dojo had been built with a small showering room. She was even more thankful that no others were left to peek in on her.

She'd started the classes a few days ago and was quickly catching up to his regular students. As disturbed as she was by her phenomenal growth in the martial art, she was pleased with the way it relaxed her and took her mind from the odd recent occurrences. Wincing to herself, she quickly pushed the thoughts from her mind before they could surface. Obviously the shower gave her too much freedom to dwell, so she quickly got out, dried and dressed.

She called out to the old man in farewell as she slipped on her shoes, jogging quickly down the dojo's steps before turning onto the main street where she let out a deep sigh as she began to move at an unhurried pace towards her home.

Had she not been preoccupied in her thoughts of home she might have noticed the haze of silvery grey smoke drifting across her path. Instead she swatted distractedly at it when she'd accidentally inhaled it. She glared at the back of the young man leaning against a tree, dressed in white slacks and a black button down. Annoyed she quickened her pace, eager to be away from the air polluting young man, only to freeze at his voice.

"Fukami-chan…" he drawled, slowly turning to lean his head around the tree.

Looking back, her eyes grew wide at the sight of blonde hair. Blonde. Takeshi. She remembered him from the alley way.

He ignored the obvious fear in her gaze and walked to stand in front of her. With a smile he took the cigarette from his lips with one hand, while snatching her hand with the other. She flinched at first, but relaxed a bit as he only shook it. "Tanami Takeshi." He gave her a mischievous grin a moment later, and asked, "So, how's my favorite rib-cracking librarian doing?"

She couldn't help it. At his question, she turned on the ball of her foot and began to run. Only to be snatched back as she realized horrifyingly that he'd never let go of her hand.

"That's not polite, Fukami-chan." He called as he slowly pulled her closer.

She felt the beginnings of desperation creeping into her bones as she struggled to pull away. Panic had settled into the pit of her stomach and had clawed it's way into her throat. Tears came to her eyes as she began to hyperventilate. "Fukami-chan, be nice." He chastised at her back.

Her lungs burned and her vision swam as she looked around in the fading light only to be disappointed; they were alone on the street. Another tug and she cried out, desperate for one last attempt to save herself, "Let go…Let go of me!"

And to the surprise of both of them, he did.

There was silence as she hunched over the concrete, tears streaming down her face. Her only warning came in the form of the glowing end of a cigarette dropping in front of her. She'd barely had time to take a breath, let alone scream when an arm wrapped itself around her torso and shoved her back against the street's only tree. She stared unblinkingly into hard brown eyes, the mischief she'd seen in them before long gone.

"What a pretty voice you have Fukami-chan." His lips smiled at her not unkindly, though his eyes regained none of their previous charm.

If she weren't so terrified, she might have snorted. They both knew her voice was anything but, pretty; it was rough and hoarse from her silence.

His gaze trailed over her face and she pressed herself as far back as the bark would allow her. She flinched, when his hand lifted to brush a stray lock of hair from her face. He caressed the bit of hair almost lovingly as he leaned in, his voice whispering softly, "I'd like it if you could speak for me again, Fukami-chan." She was stiff as a board as his head moved to rest next to her own, "If you don't know what to say…you could always just tell me what happened to Kitaro-kun." His words had gained a razor's edge.

She barely managed to croak her hesitant response, "I…I…he"

He moved back slightly, as if to hear her better.

She struck then.

Takeshi reeled back in pain and surprise from the unsuspected onslaught as she'd rammed her head into his face. He'd barely regained his balance when he saw her sprinting form turn the street corner. Blinking after her, he let loose a slow groan as he reached up to his face where a warm river of blood was trailing from his nose. With a sigh, he reflected that he had done well to wear a black shirt, but his relief was short lived as his sigh turned lamenting when he realized that his white slacks had not been spared.

"Shit."

/\*/\*/\*/\*/\

"Kamakiri Yotsuyou?" She pondered the name slowly; there was something familiar about it. A moment later her eyes flashed in recognition. "Ah! Kamakiri-san! You're the new student, right?"

His expression portrayed bewilderment, "You know of me Inoue-sensei?"

"Mmm!" Her posture shifted into one of almost childish positivity as she shrugged her shoulders forward with a smile. "Kaya-chan." Shee began, but hurriedly corrected herself with sheepish grin, "Shinome-sensei spoke of you."

Immediately, his surprise shifted to that of embarrassment, "Did she?" His eyes cast downward in modesty, "Nothing bad I hope?"

"Oh, no!" Orihime cried shaking her head violently in protest.

The boy stared at her for a moment, before laughing at her actions. She flushed in response.

Recovering quickly, he looked her over with a considering thought, "It's awfully late to be walking alone, isn't it, Inoue-sensei?"

She merely smiled in return, "Maybe, but I'm used to it."

Frowning, he stepped closer, "Still…would you mind if I walked you home?"

She stared in response, but soon a grin plastered itself on her face, "Sure!"

And so she turned and headed home, in the company of a student who was no doubt filling the occasional silence with thoughts of her gruesome demise. The walk home wasn't long, it never had been, but it felt wretchedly short now that she had company. Still, she gave a polite wave and a smile to the student as she moved to shut the door behind herself.

The student had been sure to see her in, return her wave and even grin in reply…but the moment she'd turned from the door, his eyes rolled in disgust and he pivoted on the ball of his feet as his flash of teeth warped into a painful bearing of blunted fangs. Stupid whore. The corners of his mouth had curved to impossible heights. He knew where she lived now. Sure, he could've just followed her, but it made it all the sweeter knowing that she had willingly led him straight to it. Stuffing his hands in his pockets, he shuffled home.

/\*/\*/\*/\*/\

Dinner was no longer a quiet shuffle of chopsticks and ceramic plates, but a noisy clatter of dishware, utensils, and Tsume's insistent ranting.

"And the fucking bastard just sits there and grins! With that…that….arghh!" He practically snarled between shoveled bites of rice and fish before slamming his bowl down on the table.

Meanwhile mother and son just stared at him like a wounded animal; debating on putting it down or risking injury and approaching it….well…his mother was…Tomoe was all for putting the beast down right then and there.

"So."Aleasha began, "I take it you don't like the kid that much, ne?"

Tomoe only groaned inwardly and reached for his food as Tsume turned an incredulous stare on her and proceeded to tell her that no, he didn't, followed by all the reasons why he was a 'shit-eating bastard'…as if he hadn't just spent the last hour doing just so. He rolled his eyes and began the process of tuning out the fool and his mother's hesitant responses.

Mentally however, he could only sigh. He may not share a class with the new student, but there was something about him that didn't sit right with him…namely the roof incident. He knew something. That piece of trash...no…that insect knew something that he didn't. And it was not something he could overlook nor would he allow himself to.

Resolve firmly in place, he quickly if not neatly finished his meal and stood from the table. "I'm turning in for the night. There's a test tomorrow, so I'll have to get up early if I want to have time to study, as the two of you…" he turned a poisonous glance towards his mother and their home's newest addition, "will undoubtedly make me late."

His intent stated, he climbed the stairs and did just that, leaving the two alone in the living room.

Silence reigned for but a moment as Aleasha quickly stood, leaving their conversation and her empty dishes behind. With a yawning stretch she turned and headed for her own room, "Yea well, good night."

Tsume frowned, slowly, as if something were beginning to dawn on him. His anger gradually calmed, then shifted gears as it found a new target. A twitch formed in his face as he realized the situation was oddly familiar to breakfast a few days ago. "Hey!"

Unbothered by his outburst, she turned towards him at her doorway, "Yea? What is it?"

Bothered by her nonchalance, he gave her a stare of disbelief, "Are you fucking kidding me?"

She frowned then, narrowing her eyes at his language.

"Are you really expecting me to do the dishes again? I bet your lazy ass hasn't even done the dishes from this morning and here you go again, leaving them to me!" He jumped to his feet, prepared to defend his evening's freedom.

He wasn't however expecting her to round on him with so vicious a reaction. "Excuse me?" She snarled at him. "The least you could fucking do is the dishes! You are not my child and you damned sure aren't fucking me. You're a tenant at best; a tenant who doesn't even pay rent!"

He hesitated to respond at first, she'd surprised him, but he managed one nonetheless. "Oh yeah? What the hell kinda tenant sleeps on the living room floor? I don't even have my own room!"

He was suddenly forced to retreat as she quickly stepped into in his space, eyes narrowed in a harsh stare. "You want a room? You can fucking build one. Until then, if sleeping in the living room makes you so unhappy, you're welcome to the yard." She whirled away just as quick and stormed to her room where she snapped open the door. "And Tsume?" She called to him.

Tsume was however, still staring at where she had been, embarrassment steadily creeping over him, "…Yea?" He winced inwardly as his voice cracked.

"Make sure you dry them before you put them up." And with that she shut the door behind her firmly.

He was silent for a few moments as his growing embarrassment quickly warped to anger. That fucking bitch!

/\*/\*/\*/\*/\

"Is this really necessary?"

"What kind of question is that? Of course it's necessary." Alain was leaning in her doorframe arms crossed giving her a droll stare. "You're a child. And children go to school. And here in Japan they were uniforms. So yes, it's quite necessary."

She shot him a dirty look over her shoulder, but sighed nonetheless as she turned to stare once again at her reflection. She looked positively…girly. Sure, it wasn't her first time wearing a skirt-she was quite used to wearing a dress-, but there was something about the blue pleated skirt, knee high socks, brown loafers, and beige sweater vest that made her feel different. Her hair wasn't helping either. It was long and loosely curled as always tossed back in a rushed pony tail. Again she scowled at her image.

In the doorway, her father figure rolled his eyes, "Rochelle, just hurry up. If you don't leave soon you'll be late." With that he rolled away from the door and disappeared down the hall.

She spared only a glance at his departure before studying herself again. However, a new gleam entered her eyes this time and she moved to cross her room.

XXXXX

Alain had just settled into his chair with the paper, debating on taking a mid-morning nap, when she flew out the door with a hurried, "See ya!"

He blinked in surprise at her rush, but merely shrugged it off as her not wanting to be late on her first day. He'd think differently later on when he entered the bathroom.

XXXXX

She was on time with no problems…well…there was that one fucktard who didn't get out of her way, but she shrugged the thought off, he learned not to stand in her way. She asked the man she assumed to be the Gym teacher where to find the office. He gave her an odd stare before giving her directions.

She paid little attention to the muted hallways and focused only on getting to the office. It didn't take her long to find it, the coach's directions had been fairly direct and upon arriving at the door, she shoved it open with a harsh snap. "Yo!" She entered the room to the bewilderment of her future senseis. "Rochelle Rolfe. Today's my first day."

Later on she'd realize just what kind of impression she made, but for now she didn't think anything of her appearance and instead stood at the head of the classroom, arms crossed and a look of distaste easily read on her face. The look only deepened as she listened to the teacher mangle her name into a more easier to understand version, "Roshieru Rorufu" She didn't even bother to look back as her new sensei wrote the new version of her name on the board in katakana. Instead she took the gesture as a signal to move and quickly found a seat…in a row that was oddly surrounded by boys. Later on she'd realize why that was.

"Ah," the teacher began, "that seat…" she cut herself off as she met the bland stare of Rochelle. A tense moment passed before the teacher seemed to accept her choice of seat and continued on with her introduction. "Rorufu-san is from Germany. I hope you all make her feel welcome."

Rochelle had for the most part tuned the dialogue out and was instead currently focused on the stray lock of blonde hair that had once again fallen into her face. She'd been having problems with it ever since she left the house. Inwardly she sighed, she'd have to even it out later.

Yes, Rochelle had indeed cut her hair. Well…hacked is more like it. She'd walked right over to her arts and crafts supplies, snatched up her scissors and sliced off her pony tail in the bathroom mirror. The result had been a botched and fiercely uneven cut with the strands in the front far longer than those in the back, but Rochelle hadn't noticed. She'd been too pleased with the outcome to care. She no longer looked so girly. Now people would take her seriously. No one would take her seriously with such a girly and weak appearance, not like her ridiculous waste of a father,wearing his hair in long brunette waves…such a bum.

Her internal dialogue was cut short however, as the whispers met her ears.

-"That's a girl?"

"More like a boy in a skirt." The laughter was quick to follow.

She fiercely scowled down at her desk. Bastards. Who were they to insult her?

"Did you see the way she walked?" More laughter.

Her ears burned with the warmth of embarrassment. She didn't look that bad, did she?

Her wondering didn't last long as more jokes were passed around the laughter only increasing until the teacher was forced to silence them. Did they think she couldn't understand them? She clenched her jaw and dug her nails into the sides of the desk. She hadn't even been here an hour and already she hated school.

/\*/\*/\*/\*/\

He'd made sure to arrive early. Early enough that Shinome Kaya, the early bird, had just passed him and was the first to enter the office. She'd missed him, tucked around the corner as he was. To any on-lookers he was just lounging around the hallway. His lanky form slouched against the wall, hands tucked away in his pockets while he stared unseeingly into space. And for the most part that was true, but it wasn't his purpose. He was waiting. And his waiting paid off when he heard the girlish voice of Orihime Inoue call out her morning greeting to a student.

A smile had curled his lips slightly as his continued to stare forward, his mind focused on the woman growing closer to his position. The shuffling of her indoor slippers; closer she came. The smile dropped suddenly as he lifted himself from the wall and turned the corner just as one orange haired sensei was reaching the wall's end. They came together with harsh impact and the woman was sent to the ground with unforgiving force as the breath was knocked from her lungs.

"Ah!" His eyes widened in surprise. "Inoue-sensei!" He hurriedly crouched to her defense, inspecting her closely for any injuries. "I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! I should've looked were I was going." His frantic words were only made worse as his eyes narrowed in worry. "Are you okay?"

Rubbing the back of her head, Orihime could only blink in confused surprise…and well…pain. She'd smacked her head on the floor pretty good, not anything life threatening, but it still throbbed. "Mmm." She nodded with a wince.

"Here." He began picking up her things that had scattered from her bag across the floor when she fell. He'd hesitated as his hand closed over her phone, his mind dwelling on the possibilities, but eventually he perished the thought as it required more planning than he was willing to do and dropped it along with her other items in her purse. He'd just been reaching out a hand to help her up when a voice called out to her.

"Inoue-san?"

He looked up as Inoue looked back and the two of them stared in mild surprise at the form of Kanzenkiba Tomoe. Ulquiorra. He stomped down the urge to grin. This was too perfect. He could use this. It was obvious that the once Cuatro Espada had some sort of connection with the woman. In death he was her jailer and now in this sickening façade of life, her student. Combined with the unreadable stare he was giving the two of them and the rumors around the school, he was willing to bet his life that his buttons would be all too easy to find and push.

She gave a start at seeing him, but recovered quickly, "Kanzenkiba-kun?" She flushed as she thought of her predicament. She was much too clumsy. Quickly, she took the offered hand of Kamakiri-san and heaved herself from the cold tile floor. Blush fading but still present she straightened her clothes and addressed her student in a more proper fashion, "Did you need something, Kanzenkiba-kun?"

He was silent for a long moment, his eyes shifting from her to Kamakiri, the floor and back to her. "No. It's nothing." He gave a slight shake of his head and resumed what she could only assume his normal posture; a calm composed stride, his hands ever so causally placed in his pocket; a walk that she found frighteningly familiar.

"Inoue-san?"

She was startled from her thoughts, by the apologetic stare of Kamakiri as he held out her purse with a sheepish smile. "I'm really sorry."

She smiled back, as was her usual response. "No, it's okay. It was an accident. Thank you." She took her purse from him and waved goodbye, hurrying to the staff office. Never seeing the sheepish look vanish and the gentle stare turn predatory.

/\*/\*/\*/\*/\

She wasn't even sure what was said or who said it. One moment she was standing there feeling stupid in gym shorts and a t-shirt, the next she was beating the snot out of some boy who'd chosen that moment to insult her. They'd traded insults for a bit after he'd gotten over the shock of her speaking fluid Japanese. In fact, he got over it real quick when she not only insulted him, but his whole family.

She wasn't quite sure who threw the first punch, but from where she sat-straddled over his torso- she didn't really think it mattered. She growled low in her throat, when he yanked at her front locks and she punched him hard in the nose. It was of course only natural that she bite him in return. That was how the gym teacher found them.

It didn't come to the surprise of anyone when she was given the larger punishment of a week of suspension. Of the two, she was the only one without a scratch, her hair was the only thing seemingly affected-fluffed and tangled here and there; in comparison to the boy who was not only shorter than her, but nursing a blackened eye, a bleeding nose, and brandishing a very noticeable bite mark on his forearm.

XXXXXXXX

Alain sighed as he entered the office. He hadn't really thought much of his daughter's rash and rather ridiculous decision to chop off her hair, but then the phone call came. The phone call that resulted in him sitting next to his sulking brat of a child across from a very displeased principal and-his eyes darted to the left- what appeared to be a gym teacher, one who kept giving Rochelle odd looks of appraisal.

"Rorufu-san?"

He returned his stare to the principal again. "Forgive my inattentiveness, Sataru-san. What were you saying?" He ignored his daughter's rude snort at his words.

Sataru Sho, only hummed at the man's apology, obviously comparing father and daughter, before beginning again. "As I was saying, it's only your daughter's first day and while I understand the fight was started over her appearance, which by the way," he interjected, "should be properly seen to, this type of behavior will not be tolerated again and should another outbreak of misconduct occur I will be forced to take harsher actions."

Thoroughly bored with the conversation, as he knew well were it was going from the beginning, Alain fought hard against the need to yawn and only nodded in response, before tacking on an, "I understand," as an afterthought.

Once outside and putting distance between himself and the school, he risked a glance at Rochelle. She was sulking glaring down at the ground, her messy and uneven locks fanning about her head in a tangled nest. He thought about it for a minute and without hesitation, he palmed the back of her head with a heavy smack.

"Ow!" She glared up at him, "You bastard!" She kicked him in shin with more force than any twelve year old girl should have a right to. "What was that for?" She cried to him, indignant.

Biting back a grunt of pain, he eyed her with disdain before letting out a long and exaggerated sigh or as Rochelle preferred, his old man sigh. He stopped then, about a block away from the school, surrounded by the stone walls of the suburban streets. He turned and looked down at her, "Why did you cut it?"

She glared up at him, "It's my hair! I can cut it if I want to!"

He sighed again, "No one said you couldn't. I just wanted to know why you did it."

She continued to glare before looking away with a slight pout, "Because…"

"Because what?" Mentally rolling his eyes at her behavior.

She sighed harshly, "Because!" She looked at him with an equally harsh stare, "No one would take me serious otherwise."

He blinked, "What? That's ridiculous. Rochelle, my hair isn't short and people take me seriously."

A twitch formed above his eye as she gave him an incredulous stare. Little brat. "Just because you don't take me seriously, doesn't mean the rest of the world doesn't."

"Can't imagine why…" He heard her mutter; another twitch formed.

"Besides, people would've taken you seriously just fine with your normal hair." He continued on despite her insult.

"But then I look too girly." She complained crossing her arms and toeing the ground with her loafers.

He stared at her. Did she really not know how she looked? Sure, she was female alright, but the child had a skinny stick frame, walked like a man, talked like a boy, and could curse like a sailor at the drop of a hat…and then she had to go and chop off the only thing that truly affirmed her female identity in the eyes of society. So he couldn't help saying, "As to what? Looking like a boy wearing his sister's clothes?"

"Oi!" She cried, attacking him again.

Inwardly, he admitted he may have deserved that second kick to the shin, but outwardly he only scowled and continued on. "You really should have come to me before you decided to chop it all off. You look ridiculous."

"Hey! There are plenty of girls with short hair! There was a bunch in my class." Her eyes narrowed as stared at him with eyes that dared him to argue against her.

Palming his face, Alain sighed as he allowed his body to drop into a crouch at her level. "Rochelle…" he began, placing a hand on her thin shoulder; a hand that she gave an offended stare, "…that's only for cute girls."

Silence. It was a rather nice response. Of course, he knew her all too well to think it would end there. Ah…there it is, he thought to himself, watching the strain of muscles in her face as her eye twitched up, her jaw clenching as she grinded her teeth, and finally the clenching of her small but forceful hands. "You asshole!" She punched him in the solar plexus and he was forced to wheeze under the unexpected blow, "How dare you not think your own child is cute!"

He was, however, prepared for the blows that followed and merely parried what he could and ignored what he couldn't. Inwardly, he wondered why he had even tried to talk to her about it. She was an impulsive child who wouldn't learn just because he said anything. Who was he to be upset that she'd have to learn everything the hard way; he was just the brat's legal guardian. Outwardly his body gave a shrug and they continued home; the neighborhood giving them strange looks as the small girl continued to pummel against his much larger frame.

/\*/\*/\*/\*/\

Kamakiri Yotsuyou, the insect. The mere thought of him gave him a sense of unease. He didn't like it. He didn't trust the fool as far as he could throw him-martial art not counted- and he wasn't fool enough to do so regardless, but there was just something about him that screamed at his senses to pay attention. It had him on guard, ready, paranoid. He winced at the latter. It was like a mockery were being made of him, one that he couldn't identify, because he couldn't even see the joke itself.

He knew it when he saw it; he was being toyed with and it frustrated him to no end. His conversation with Inoue hadn't truly ended and despite the strange way it had been cut off he was still determined to finish it. He wanted, no he needed answers, but the insect. He glared at the paved road beneath his feet. Every time he'd found time to speak to the woman outside of class, there he was…chatting with her, asking her for help, making her laugh. His glare intensified.

At first, it hadn't bothered him much. He just felt a bit of worry for his innocent teacher, letting such scum hang around her, but then as the day grew longer, he grew more agitated. He was always there. It was as if every time he spotted her alone and free of distraction, the bug would crawl out of the woodwork and into his way. It was almost as if he were intending on getting in his way.

And that was when he realized as he'd been forced to leave the school that afternoon, still having not spoken to her after Kamakiri had yet again stolen her attention-and he would not be found waiting around for her attention- that that was exactly what he was doing. The piece of viral trash was purposely standing in his way, but why?

Next to him, Tsume stared at his…friend oddly. The last time he'd witnessed him stare so intently it was right before he called him trash and shoved him down the stairs. An incident that Tsume had never forgotten nor forgiven, in fact he was merely waiting for a chance at vengeance-though it might never come as Tomoe never allowed himself to be caught off-guard near stairs. Either way, the dead stare bothered him and he was about to speak on it when his phone vibrated; he always turned it back on immediately after leaving class, just in case the gym called.

XXXXXXXXXX

"Oi! Woman!" He burst into the house not having even bothered removing his shoes at the entry way-a fact that Tomoe acknowledged with a deadly glared, but didn't comment on as he made his way up the stairs.

The aforementioned woman, the head of the Kanzenkiba household gave him an agitated look as she took in his form, her stare lingering on his still covered feet for but a moment, before returning to his face. "What?"

He stilled as he met her gaze and forced himself to calm down. "Ummm…So you know I box, right?"

Her stare relaxed and turned to slight confusion as she reached for a potato chip. "Yea…what of it?"

"Uh…well I just got off the phone with them."

She said nothing as she shoveled the chip past her lips with a loud crunch, only continuing to stare at him.

He tried not to fidget. "And well, since Chisaki kicked me out and took me off the register…and seeing as I'm not 18"-

She cut him off, with a hand held in the air. "Wait a minute. Are you asking me to adopt you? Because, that's just NOT happening."

"What?" He shot her a look, "No! Of course not! That would just be stupid! Why the hell would I want you as my parent? You're"- He silenced himself at the murderous glare she was currently giving him.

Clearing his throat, he tried again, "No. What I'm saying is, without a legal guardian I need an adult to take responsibility for me."

She stared for a moment longer, before letting out a quiet sigh. "Can't your coach do that?"

"Well yea, theoretically…" She arched a brow and he continued. "But Himaru's known me for a while and he's…uh…not really sure"-

"You mean he knows what a hotheaded dumbass you are?"

He glared at her and decided not to point out the fact that she was in turn a hotheaded bitch. He did after all need her to sign the papers-plus he wanted to be fully intact for his next match. So, he gritted his teeth and agreed, "Yes."

"Hmmm…." She sighed, falling back onto a pillow she'd brought into the living room, purely for the purpose of catching her head and dragged the chip bag over to her reach. He stared at her waiting for a response. And she did make him wait. Bitch. She was halfway done with the bag before she spoke again.

"Tsume…"

He took his eyes from her greedy hands still fishing around for a chip and met her stare. "You screw up and you'll regret it."

He scoffed at her words, but continued to stare at her questioningly.

Rolling her eyes, she acquiesced his look with an actual answer. "Yes. Yes I will take responsibility for the stupid shit you do."

He tried, but failed not to glare at her.

"So," she sat up, absently brushing crumbs from her shirt. "What do I have to do?"

Blinking, he was surprised at her willingness. "Well, there's some papers you have to sign."

"Great!" Her tone dripping with sarcasm, "Where are they?"

"What?"

"Where are the papers, Tsume?" She gave him the usual 'stupid fool' glare that he was sure she'd learned from her son.

"…at the gym."

Silence.

* * *

**Afterword:** …Yup. I screwed up. I'm sorry. I got caught up by papers and then I got caught up with financial issues that eventually led to anxiety that led to me being unable to write. And even though I'm still suffering these issues, I have pulled myself out of my rut enough to be able to try and get myself together again. So I hope you all can forgive my absents and continue to read…and possibly review. XD

_-BlackFirelight_


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